O R„T U N E 





r R. ACY ' 





4 


THE WHEEL O’ FORTUNE 






By the Prophet ! ” he exclaimed, “ I am overjoyed at seeing you ” 

Frontispiece 


The 

Wheel o’ Fortune 


BY 

LOUIS JRACY 

Author of “ The Wings of the Morning," “ The Pillar of Light,' 
“ T he Captain of the Kansas," etc. 


ILLUSTRATIONS BT JAMES MONTGOMERT FLAGG 



New York 

Edward J. Clode 

Publisher 



A f' 



Copyright, 1907 

By EDWARD J. CLODE 



Entered at Stationers'* Hall 


~i. -t- 

Replaeornent 




The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass. U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I page 

Wherein Fortune Turns her Wheel 1 

CHAPTER II 

The Compact 18 

CHAPTER HI 

A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 37 

CHAPTER IV 

Von Kerber Explains 58 

CHAPTER V 

Miss Fenshawe seeks an Ally 76 

CHAPTER VI 

At the Portal 95 

CHAPTER VH 

Mrs. Haxton Receives a Shock . 116 

CHAPTER VHI 

Massowah Asserts Itself 134 

CHAPTER IX 

A Gallop in the Dark 152 

CHAPTER X 

The Calm before the Storm 170 


V 


Contents 

CHAPTER XI PAGE 

A Woman Intervenes 187 

CHAPTER XII 

Stump Depends on Observation 206 

CHAPTER XIII 

The Sign in the Sky 224 

CHAPTER XIV 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel Becomes Useful .... 243 


CHAPTER XV 

The Desert Awakes 262 

CHAPTER XVI 

A Flight — and a Fight -. . 284 

CHAPTER XVH 

How Three Roads Led in one Direction 306 

CHAPTER XVHI 

The Finding of the Treasure 328 


VI 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“By the Prophet!” he exclaimed, “I am overjoyed at seeing 

you” . . . > Frontispiece 

“I don’t want your charity, I want work!” 12 

“Let your prisoner go, Mr. King” 57 

' “ Good morning, Mr. King,” she cried 72 

“You need no promise from me. Miss Fenshawe ”... 93 

The Arab appraised Roy son with critical eye 115 

' He did not dare meet the glance suddenly turned upon him 211 

■ “ Go, Dick, but come back to me in safety ” 269 

“You dare to tell this to me?” she said 290 

He fired both barrels into their midst 302 


vii 





y 


i 


t 


’The JVheel o’ Fortune 


CHAPTER I 

WHEREIN FORTUNE TURNS HER WHEEL 

A t ten o’clock on a morning in October — a 
dazzling, sunlit morning after hours of wind- 
lashed rain — a young man hurried out of Victoria 
Station and dodged the traffic and the mud-pools on 
his way towards Victoria Street. Suddenly he was 
brought to a stand by an unusual spectacle. A 
procession of the “unemployed” was sauntering out 
of Vauxhall Bridge Road into the more important 
street. Being men of leisure, the processionists moved 
slowly. The more alert pedestrian who had just 
emerged from the station did not grumble at the delay 
— he even turned it to advantage by rolling and 
lighting a cigarette. The ragged regiment filed past, 
a soiled, frayed, hopeless-looking gang. Three hun- 
dred men had gathered on the south side of the river, 
and were marching to join other contingents on the 
Thames Embankment, whence some thousands of 
them would be shepherded by policemen up North- 
umberland Avenue, across Trafalgar Square, and so, 
by way of Lower Regent Street and Piccadilly, to 
Hyde Park, where they would hoarsely cheer every 
1 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

demagogue who blamed the Government for their 
miseries. 

London, like Richard Royson, would stand on the 
pavement and watch them. Like him, it would drop 
a few coins into the collecting boxes rattled under its 
nose, and grin at the absurd figure cut by a very fat 
man who waddled notably among his leaner brethren, 
for hunger and substance are not often found so 
strangely allied. But, having salved its conscience by 
giving, and gratified its sarcastic humor by laughing, 
London took thought, perhaps, when it read the strange 
device on the banner carried by this Vauxhall con- 
tingent. “ Curse your charity — we want work,” said 
the white letters, staring threateningly out of a wide 
strip of red cotton. There was a brutal force in the 
phrase. It was Socialism in a tabloid. Many a 
looker-on, whose lot was nigh as desperate as that of 
the demonstrators, felt that it struck him between the 
eyes. 

It had some such effect on Royson. Rather abruptly 
he turned away, and reached the less crowded Buck- 
ingham Palace Road. His face was darkened by a 
frown, though his blue eyes had a glint of humor in 
them. The legend on the banner had annoyed him. 
Its blatant message had penetrated the armor of 
youth, high spirits, and abounding good health. It 
expressed his own case with a crude vigor. The “un- 
employed” genius who railed at society in that virile 
line must have felt as he, Dick Royson, had begun to 
feel during the past fortnight, and the knowledge that 
2 


Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 


this was so was exceedingly distasteful. It was mon- 
strous that he should rate himself on a par with those 
slouching wastrels. The mere notion brought its own 
confutation. Twenty-four years of age, well educated, 
a gentleman by birth and breeding, an athlete who 
stood six feet two inches high in his stockings, the gulf 
was wide, indeed, between him and the charity-cursers 
who had taken his money. Yet — the words stuck. . . . 

Evidently, he was fated to be a sight-seer that 
morning. When he entered Buckingham Palace Road, 
the strains of martial music banished the gaunt specter 
called into being by the red cotton banner. A police- 
man, more cheerful and spry than his comrades who 
marshaled the procession shuffling towards West- 
minster, strode to the center of the busy crossing, and 
cast an alert eye on the converging lines of trafflc. 
Another section of the ever-ready London crowd lined 
up on the curb. Nursemaids, bound for the parks, 
wheeled their perambulators into strategic positions, 
thus commanding a clear view and blocking the edge 
of the pavement. Drivers of omnibuses, without 
waiting for the lifted hand of authority, halted in 
Lower Grosvenor Gardens and Victoria Street. Cabs 
going to the station, presumably carrying fares to 
whom time meant lost trains, spurted to cross a road 
which would soon be barred. And small boys gathered 
from all quarters in amazing profusion. In a word, 
the Coldstream Guards were coming from Chelsea 
Barracks to do duty at St. James’s, coming, too, in the 
approved manner of the Guards, with lively drumming 
3 


The Wheel o' Fortune 


and clash of cymbals, while brass and reeds sang 
some jaunty melody of the hour. 

The passing of a regimental band has whisked 
many a youngster out of staid Britain into the far 
lands. The lilt and swing of soldiers on the march 
have a glamour all the more profound because it is 
evanescent. That man must indeed be careworn who 
would resist it. Certainly, the broad-shouldered young 
giant who had been momentarily troubled by the 
white-red ghost of poverty was not so minded. He 
could see easily over the heads of the people standing 
on the edge of the pavement, so he did not press to 
the front among the rabble, but stood apart, with his 
back against a shop window. Thus, he was free to 
move to right or left as he chose. That was a slight 
thing in itself, an unconscious trick of aloofness — 
perhaps an inherited trait of occupying his own terri- 
tory, so to speak. But it is these slight things which 
reveal character. They oft-times influence human 
lives, too; and no man ever extricated himself more 
promptly from the humdrum of moneyless existence 
in London than did Richard Royson that day by plac- 
ing the width of the sidewalk between himself and the 
unbroken row of spectators. Of course, he knew 
nothing of that at the moment. His objective was an 
appointment at eleven o’clock in the neighborhood of 
Charing Cross, and, now that he was given the excuse, 
he meant to march along the Mall behind the Guards. 
Meanwhile, he watched their advance. 

Above the tall bearskins and glittering bayonets he 
4 


Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 

caught the flourish of energetic drumsticks. The big 
drum gave forth its clamor with window-shaking insist- 
ence; it seemed to be the summons of power that all 
else should stand aside. On they came, these spruce 
Guards, each man a marching machine, trained to 
strut and pose exactly as his fellows. There was a 
sense of omnipotence in their rhythmic movement. 
And they all had the grand manner — from the elegant 
captain in command down to the smallest drummer- 
boy. Although the sun was shining brightly now, the 
earlier rain and hint of winter in the air had clothed 
all ranks in dark gray great-coats and brown leggings. 
Hence, to the untrained glance, they were singularly 
alike. Ofiicers, sergeants, privates and bandsmen 
might have been cast in molds, after the style of toy 
soldiers. There were exceptions, of course, just as 
the fat man achieved distinction among the unemployed. 
The crimson sashes of the officers, the drum-major, 
with his twirling staff, the white apron of the big 
drummer, drew the eye. A slim subaltern, carrying 
the regimental color, held pride of place in the picture. 
The rich hues of the silk lent a barbaric splendor to 
his sober trappings. And he took himself seriously. 
A good-looking lad, with smooth contours not yet 
hardened to the military type, his face had in it a set 
gravity which proclaimed that he would bear that 
flag whithersoever his country’s need demanded. And 
it was good to see him so intent on the mere charge 
of it in transit between Chelsea Barracks and the 
Guard-room at St. James’s Palace. That argued 
5 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

earnestness, an excellent thing, even in the Household 
Brigade. 

Royson was amusing himself with the contrast be- 
tween the two types of banner-bearers he had gazed at 
in the short space of five minutes — he was specially 
tickled by the fact that the Guards, also, were under 
police protection — when he became aware that the 
features of the color-lieutenant were familiar to him. 
A man in uniform, with forehead and chin partly 
hidden by warlike gear, cannot be recognized easily, 
if there be any initial doubt as to his identity. To 
determine the matter, Royson, instead of following in 
the rear as he had intended, stepped out briskly and 
placed himself somewhat ahead of the officer. He 
was near the drums before he could make sure that 
he was actually within a few yards of a former class- 
mate. The knowledge brought a rush of blood to 
his face. Though glad enough to see unexpectedly 
one who had been a school friend, it was not in 
human nature that the marked difference between 
their present social positions should not be bitter to 
him. Here was “ Jack ” marching down the middle 
of the road in the panoply of the Guards, while 
“ Dick,” his superior during six long years at Rugby, 
was hurrying along the pavement, perhaps nearing 
the brink of that gulf already reached by the Vaux- 
hall processionists. 

So Dick Royson’s placid temper was again ruffled, 
and he might have said nasty things about Fate had 
not that erratic dame suddenly thought fit to alter his 
6 


Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 

fortunes. As the street narrowed between lofty build- 
ings, so did the blaring thunder of the music increase. 
The mob closed in on the soldiers’ heels; the whole 
roadway was packed with moving men. A somber 
flood of humanity — topped by the drumsticks, the 
flag, the glistening bayonets and the bearskins — it 
seemingly engulfed all else in its path. The sparkle 
of the band, intensified by the quick, measured tramp 
of the soldiers, aroused a furtive enthusiasm. Old 
men, bearded and bent, men whom one would never 
suspect of having borne arms, straightened themselves, 
stood to attention, and saluted the swaying flag. Cal- 
low youths, hooligans, round-shouldered slouchers at 
the best, made shift to lift their heads and keep step. 
And the torrent caught the human flotsam of the 
pavement in its onward swirl. If Royson had not 
utilized that clear space lower down the street, it would 
have demanded the exercise of sheer force to reach 
the van of the dense gathering of nondescripts now 
following the drum. 

Nevertheless, a clearance was made, and speedily, 
with the startling suddenness of a summer whirlwind. 
A pair of horses, attached to an open carriage, were 
drawn up in a by-street until the Guards had passed. 
So far as Royson was concerned, they were on the 
opposite side of the road, with their heads towards 
him. But he happened to be looking that way, be- 
cause his old-time companion, the Hon. John Paton 
Seymour, was in the direct line of sight, and his unusual 
stature enabled him to see that both horses reared 
7 


The Wheel d Fortune 

simultaneously. They took the coachman by surprise, 
and their downward plunge dragged him headlong 
from the box. Instantly there was a panic among the 
mob. It melted away from the clatter of frenzied 
hoofs as though a live shell had burst in the locality. 
Two staccato syllables from the officer in command 
stopped the music and brought the Guards to a halt. 
The horses dashed madly forward, barely missing the 
color and its escort. A ready-witted sergeant grabbed 
at the loose reins flapping in the air, but they eluded 
him with a snake-like twist. The next wild leap 
brought the carriage pole against a lamp-post, and 
both were broken. Then one of the animals stumbled, 
half turned, backed, and locked the front wheels. A 
lady, the sole occupant, was discarding some heavy 
wraps which impeded her movements, evidently mean- 
ing to spring into the road, but she was given no time. 
The near hind wheel was already off the ground. In 
another second the carriage must be overturned, had 
not Royson, brought by chance to the right place, 
seized the off wheel and the back of the hood, and 
bodily lifted the rear part of the victoria into momen- 
tary safety. It was a fine display of physical strength 
and quick judgment. He literally threw the vehicle 
a distance of several feet. But that was not all. He 
saw his opportunity, caught the reins, and took such 
a pull at the terrified horses that a policeman and a 
soldier were able to get hold of their heads. The 
coachman, who had fallen clear, now ran up. With 
him came a gentleman in a fur coat. Royson was 
8 


Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 

about to turn and find out what had become of the 
lady, when some one said quietly: 

“ Well saved, King Dick ! ” 

It was the Hon. John Seymour who spoke. Rigid 
as a statue, and almost as helpless, he was standing in 
the middle of the road, with his left hand holding the 
flag and a drawn sword in his right. Yet a school 
nickname bridged five years so rapidly that the man 
who had just been reviling Fate smiled at the pictur- 
esque officer of the Guards in the old, tolerant way, 
the way in which the hero of the eleven or fifteen 
permits his worshipers to applaud. 

But this mutual recognition went no further. The 
Guards must on to St. James’s. Some incomprehen- 
sible growls set them in motion again, the drum banged 
with new zest, and the street gradually emptied, leaving 
only a few curious gapers to surround the damaged 
victoria and the trembling horses. The fresh outburst 
of music brought renewed prancing, but the pair were 
in hand now, for Royson held the reins, and the mud- 
bedaubed coachman was ready to twist their heads off 
in his wrath. 

“Don’t know what took ’em,” he was gasping to 
the policeman. “Never knew ’em be’ave like this 
afore. Quiet as sheep, they are, as a ryule.” 

“Too fat,” explained the unemotional constable. 
“ Give ’em more work an’ less corn. Wot’s your name 
an’ address ? There’s this ’ere lamp-post to pay for. 
Cavalry charges in Buckingham Palace Road cost a 
bit.” 


9 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


An appreciative audience grinned at the official 
humor. But Royson was listening to the somewhat 
lively conversation taking place behind him. 

“ Are you injured in any way ? ” cried the gentleman 
in the fur coat, obviously addressing the lady in the 
victoria. The too accurate cadence in his words be- 
spoke the foreigner, the man who has what is called 
“a perfect command” of English. 

“Not in the least, thank you,” was the answer. 
The voice was clear, musical, well-bred, and decidedly 
chilling. The two concluding words really meant “ no 
thanks to you.” The lady was, however, quite self- 
possessed, and, as a consequence, polite. 

“But why in the world did you not jump out when 
I shouted to you ? ” demanded the man. 

“Because you threw your half of the rug over my 
feet, and thus hindered me.” 

“ Did I ? Achy Gott ! Do you think I deserted you, 
then ? ” 

“No, no. I did not mean that, Baron von Kerber. 
The affair was an accident, and you naturally thought 
I would follow your example. I did try, twice, to 
spring clear, but I lost my balance each time. We 
have no cause to blame one another. My view is that 
Spong was caught napping. Instead of arguing about 
things we might have done, we really ought to thank 
this gentleman, who prevented any further develop- 
ments in some wonderful way not quite known to me 
yet.” 

The lady was talking herself into less caustic mood. 

10 


Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 


Perhaps she had not expected the Baron to shine in 
an emergency. Her calmness seemed to irritate him, 
though he was most anxious to put himself right with 
her. 

“My object in jumping out so quickly was to run 
to the horses’ heads,” he said. “Unfortunately, I 
tripped and nearly fell. But why sit there ? We must 
take a hansom. Or perhaps you would prefer to go 
by train?” 

“Oh, a cab, by all means.” 

The horses were now standing so quietly that Roy son 
handed the reins to the coachman, who was examining 
the traces. Then he was able to turn and look at the 
lady. He saw that she was young and pretty, but 
the heavy furs she wore half concealed her face, and 
the fact that his own garments were frayed, while his 
hands and overcoat were plastered with mud off the 
wheels, did not help to dissipate a certain embarrass- 
ment that gripped him, for he was a shy man where 
women were concerned. She, too, faltered a little, 
and the reason was made plain by her words. 

“ I do not know how to thank you,” she said, and 
he became aware that she had wonderful brown eyes. 
“ I think — you saved my life. Indeed, I am sure you 
did. Will you — call — at an address that I will 
give you. Mr. Fenshawe will be most anxious to — 
to — acknowledge your services.” 

“ Oh, pray leave that to me. Miss Fenshawe,” broke 
in the Baron, whose fluent English had a slight lisp. 
“Here is my card,” he went on rapidly, looking at 
11 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Royson with calm assurance. “ Come and see me this 
evening, at seven o’clock, and I will make it worth 
your while.” 

A glance at Royson’s clothes told him enough, as he 
thought, to appraise the value of the assistance given. 
And he had no idea that his fair companion had really 
been in such grave danger. He believed that the 
shattering of the pole against the lamp standard had 
stopped the bolting horses, and that the tall young 
man now surveying him with a measuring eye had 
merely succeeded in catching the reins. 

Royson lifted his hat to the lady, who had alighted, 
and was daintily gathering her skirts out of the mud. 

“ I am glad to have been able to help you, madam,” 
he said. He would have gone without another word 
had not von Kerber touched his arm. 

“You have not taken my card,” said the man im- 
periously. 

Some mischievous impulse, born of the turbulent 
emotions momentarily quelled by the flurry of the 
carriage accident, conquered Royson’s better instincts. 
Though the Baron was tall, he towered above him. 
And he hardly realized the harshness, the vexed con- 
tempt, of his muttered reply: 

“ I don’t want your charity, I want work.” 

At once he was conscious of his mistake. He had 
sunk voluntarily to the level of the Vauxhall paraders. 
He had even stolen their thunder. A twinge of self- 
denunciation drove the anger from his frowning eyes. 
And the Baron again thought he read his man correctly. 

n 



Page 12 


“I don’t want your charity, I want work!” 


:isfe 














•3' 


\. V' 








r /, •< 


M ' 


.’r.V’ ^ 


•V'* 




'k 






/r- 




1 »" 


»••• 


7''>;it 






*Vi:y, 




s •: 


<•^11 • • 


»T* -. J > 




•w 


'■■’-'•''a; 

rl 




9i !SA 




« • 


* ' ■ _ 

. ® t. 

' . ' 6 

y<iM 


w % 


A' ifZ 


.’IT 


■‘J * 


iiTL 


-w 


^ rK- 


»y 


1 < iT - 


< /z 


*.♦ »•. 


r^t 








‘V 


J.t 




“ip 


.4£ 






;. •. 


. .f 




• »* 




^Sia 






• 






L;.-. ;> 


• I.'i 




.V 








H r'* 




^ 




11 


J-?i 


f . r 


^\\ 










'« # 




JJf 




-r. ‘ 


h *4 '»- 








.«■ . - 


\>f 


• >♦ fl 


cB \1 


%>- 


r* . 




\ '- • 


• - " 






*?. 


i •- 


**K 


A 


I 




r 






.'•>V 


# 


^ j 




Vi* 


i‘7 




5 ^. 


»•? 


V“^\ 


tj' 


"tr 


- 











Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 


“Even so/’ he said, in a low tone, “take my card. 
I can find you work, of the right sort, for one who has 
brains and pluck, yes ? ” 

The continental trick of ending with an implied 
question lent a subtle meaning to his utterance, and 
he helped it with covert glance and sour smile. Thus 
might Caesar Borgia ask some minion if he could use 
a dagger. But Royson was too humiliated by his 
blunder to pay heed to hidden meanings. He grasped 
the card in his muddied fingers, and looked towards 
Miss Fenshawe, who was now patting one of the horses. 
Her aristocratic aloofness was doubly galling. She, 
too, had heard what he said, and was ready to classify 
him with the common herd. And, indeed, he had 
deserved it. He was wholly amazed by his own churl- 
ish outburst. Not yet did he realize that Fate had 
taken his affairs in hand, and that each step he took, 
each syllable he uttered in that memorable hour, were 
part and parcel of the new order of events in his life. 

Quite crestfallen, he hurried away. He found him- 
self inside the gates of the park before he took note of 
direction. Then he went to the edge of the lake, 
wetted his handkerchief, and rubbed off the worst of 
the mud-stains. While engaged in this task he calmed 
down suflSciently to laugh, not with any great degree 
of mirth, it is true, but with a grain of comfort at the 
recollection of Seymour’s eulogy. 

“King Dick!” he growled. “Times have changed 
since last I heard that name. By gad, five years can 
work wonders.” 


13 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


And, indeed, so can five seconds, when wonders are 
working, but the crass ignorance of humanity oft pre- 
vents the operation being seen. Be that as it may, 
Royson discovered that it was nearly eleven o’clock 
before he had cleaned his soiled clothes suflSciently to 
render himself presentable. As he set out once more 
for his rendezvous, he heard the band playing the old 
Guard back to quarters. The soldiers came down the 
Mall, but he followed the side of the lake, crossed the 
Horse-guards Parade, and reached the office for which 
he was bound at ten minutes past eleven. He had 
applied for a secretaryship, a post in which “ a thorough 
knowledge of French” was essential, and he was re- 
ceived by a pompous, flabby little man, with side 
whiskers, for whom he conceived a violent dislike 
the moment he set eyes on him. Apparently, the 
feeling was mutual. Dick Royson was far too dis- 
tinguished looking to suit the requirements of the 
podgy member for a county constituency, a legisla- 
tor who hoped to score in Parliament by getting the 
Yellow Books of the French Chamber translated for 
his benefit. 

“You are late, Mr. Royson,” began the important 
one. 

“Yes,” said Dick. 

“ Punctuality — ” 

“ Exactly, but I was mixed up in a slight mishap to a 
carriage.” 

“As I was about to remark,” said the M.P., in his 
most impressive manner, “punctuality in business is 
14 


Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 

a sine qua non. I have already appointed another 
secretary.” 

“Poor devil!” said Dick. 

“How dare you, sir, speak to me in that man- 
ner 

“I was thinking of him. I don’t know him, but, 
having seen you, I am sorry for him.” 

“You impudent rascal — ” 

But Royson had fled. Out in the street, he looked 
up at the sky. “Is there a new moon?” he asked 
himself, gravely. “Am I cracked? Why did I pitch 
into that chap ? If I’m not careful, I shall get myself 
into trouble to-day. I wonder if Jack Seymour will 
lend me enough to take me to South Africa? They 
say that war is brewing there. That is what I 
want — gore, bomb-shells, more gore. If I stay in 
London — ” 

Then he encountered a procession coming up North- 
umberland Avenue. Police, mounted and on foot, 
headed it. Behind marched the unemployed, thousands 
of them. 

“ If I stay in London,” he continued, quite seriously, 
“I shall pick out a beefy policeman and flght him. 
Then I shall get locked up, and my name will be in 
the papers, and my uncle will see it, and have a fit, 
and die. I don’t want my uncle to have a fit, and 
die, or I shall feel that I am responsible for his 
death. So I must emigrate.” 

Suddenly he recalled the words and manner of the 
Baron von Kerber. They came to him with the vivid- 
15 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


ness of a new impression. He sought for the card in 
his pocket. “Baron Franz von Kerber, 118, Queen’s 
Gate, W.,” it read. 

“Sounds like an Austrian name,” he reflected. 
“ But the girl was English, a thoroughbred, too. What 
was it he said? ‘Work of the right sort, for a man 
with brains and pluck.’ Well, 1 shall give this joker 
a call. If he wants me to tackle anything short of 
crime, I’m his man. Failing him, I shall see Jack 
to-morrow, when he is off duty.” 

A red banner was staggering up Northumberland 
Avenue, and he caught a glimpse of a fat man in the 
midst of the lean ones. 

“Oh, dash those fellows, they give me the hump,” 
he growled, and he turned his back on them a second 
time. But no military pomp or startled horses offered 
new adventure that day. He wandered about the 
streets, ate a slow luncheon, counted his money, seven- 
teen shillings all told, went into the British Museum, 
and dawdled through its galleries until he was turned 
out. Then he bought a newspaper, drank some tea, 
and examined the shipping advertisements. 

His mind was fixed on South Africa. Somehow, it 
never occurred to him that the fur-clothed Baron 
might find him suitable employment. Nevertheless, 
he went to 118, Queen’s Gate, at seven o’clock. The 
footman who opened the door seemed to be expecting 
him. 

“ Mr. King ? ” said the man. 

This struck Royson as distinctly amusing. 

16 


Wherein Fortune turns her Wheel 

“ Something like that,” he answered, but the footman 
had the face of a waxen image. 

“ This way, Mr. King.” 

And Royson followed him up a wide staircase, 
marveling at the aptness of the name. 


17 


CHAPTER II 


THE COMPACT 

The Baron Franz von Kerber was in evening dress. 
He was engrossed in the examination of a faded, or 
discolored, document when Royson was shown into an 
apartment, nominally the drawing-room, which the 
present tenant had converted into a spacious study. 
An immense map of the Red Sea littoral, drawn and 
colored by hand, hung on one of the walls; there were 
several chart cases piled on a table; and a goodly 
number of books, mainly ancient tomes, were arranged 
on shelves or stacked on floor and chairs. This was 
the room of a worker. Von Kerber’s elegant exterior 
was given a new element of importance by his sur- 
roundings. 

That was as much as Royson could note before the 
Baron looked up from the letter he was reading. It 
demanded close scrutiny, because it was written in 
Persi-Arabic. 

“Ah, glad to see you, Mr. King,” he said affably. 
“Sit there,” and he pointed to an empty chair. Dick 
knew that this seat in particular was selected because 
it would place him directly in front of a cluster of 
electric lights. He waited until the door was closed. 

18 


The Compact 

“ By the way,” he said, “ why do you call me ‘ King ’ ? 
That is not my name, but it is rather extraordinary 
that you should have hit on it, because it is part of a 
nickname I had at school.” 

He was fully at ease now. Poverty and anxiety can 
throw even a Napoleon out of gear, but Richard 
Roy son was hard as granite in some ways, and the 
mere decision to go to South Africa had driven the 
day’s distempered broodings from his mind. 

“I thought I heard the officer who spoke to you in 
Buckingham Palace Road address you as King,” 
explained von Kerber. 

“Yes, that is true,” admitted Royson. He felt that 
it would savor of the ridiculous, in his present cir- 
cumstances, were he to state his nickname in full and 
explain the significance of it. In fact, he was resolved 
to accept the five-pound note which the Baron would 
probably offer him, and be thankful for it. Hence, 
the pseudonym rather soothed his pride. 

Von Kerber placed the Arabic scrawl under a paper- 
weight. He was a man who plumed himself on a gift 
of accurate divination. Such a belief is fatal. For 
the third time that day, he misunderstood the Eng- 
lishman’s hesitancy. 

“ What’s in a name ? ” he quoted, smilingly. “ Sup- 
pose I continue to call you King? It is short, and 
easily remembered, and your English names puzzle 
me more than your language, which is difficult enough, 
yes?” 

“Then we can leave it at that,” agreed Royson. 

19 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

“ I thought so. Well, to come to business. What 
can you do ? ” 

“It would be better, perhaps, if you told me what 
you want me to do.’’ 

“ Can you ride ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Have you ever been to sea ? ” 

Royson pricked up his ears at this. “The sea” 
suggested undreamed-of possibilities. And von Kerber 
certainly had the actor’s facial art of conveying much 
more than the mere purport of his words. The map, 
the charts, assumed a new meaning. Were they 
scenic accessories ? Had this foreigner taken the 
whim to send him abroad on some mission ? He 
decided to be less curt in his statements. 

“If I simply answered your question I should be 
compelled to say ‘ No,’ ” he replied. “ So far as my 
actual sea-going is concerned, it has consisted of trips 
across the Channel when I was a boy. Yet I am a fair 
sailor. I can handle a small yacht better than most 
men of my age. My experience is confined to a 
lake, but it is complete in that small way. And I 
taught myself the rudiments of navigation — as a 
pastime.” 

“Ah!” 

The Baron expressed both surprise and gratification 
by the monosyllable. Royson was weighing his com- 
panion closely now, and he came to the conclusion 
that there were qualities in that tall, thin, somewhat 
effeminate personality which he had not detected dur- 
20 


The Compact 

ing their brief meeting of the morning. Von Kerber 
was good-looking, with something of the dignity and 
a good deal of the aspect of a bird of prey. His slender 
frame was well-knit. His sinuous hands hinted at 
unexpected strength. Were Royson told that his 
possible employer was a master of the rapier he would 
have credited it. And the Baron, for his part, was 
rapidly changing the first-formed estimate of his guest. 

“Pray forgive me if I seem to intrude on your per- 
sonal affairs,’’ he said; “but, taking your own words, 
you are — how do you say it — schlimm — aux 
abois — ” 

“Hard up. Yes.” 

“What? You speak German, or is it French?” 

“ German, a little. I am understandable in French.” 
“Ah.” 

Again von Kerber paused. Royson smiled. Had 
he striven to mislead the other man as to his character 
he could not have succeeded so admirably. And the 
Baron read the smile according to his own diagnosis. 
He was sure that this well-educated, gentlemanly, yet 
morose-mannered young Englishman was under a 
cloud — that he had broken his country’s laws, and 
been broken himself in the process. And von Kerber 
was searching for men of that stamp. They would do 
things that others, who pinned their faith to testi- 
monials, certificates, and similar vouchers of repute, 
might shy at. 

“ I think you are one to be trusted ? ” he went on, 

“I am glad you think that.” 

21 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“ Yes. I soon make up my mind. And to-day you 
acted as one man among a thousand. Miss Fenshawe, 
the lady in the carriage, enlightened me afterwards. 
I saw only part of your fine behavior. You were 
quick and fearless. Those are the qualities I seek, 
but I demand obedience, too, and a still tongue, yes ” 

“I would not betray a man who trusted me,” said 
Dick. “If I disagreed with you I would leave you. 
I fell out with the son of my last employer, so I left him, 
a fortnight ago. Yet I have kept my reasons to my- 
self.” 

The memory of that falling out was yet vivid. He 
had filled the position of foreign correspondence clerk 
to an export firm in the city. One evening, returning 
late to the office, he surprised the typist, a rather pretty 
girl, in tears. She blurted out some broken words 
which led him to interview the young gentleman who 
represented the budding talent of the house; and the 
result was lamentable. The senior partner dismissed 
him next day, telling him he was lucky he had escaped 
arrest for a murderous assault, and, as for the girl, 
she was like the rest of her class, anxious only to in- 
veigle a rich young fool into marriage. The point of 
view of both father and son was novel to Royson, 
and their ethics were vile, but he gave the girl, who 
was sent away at the same time, half of the six pounds 
he had in his pocket, and wished he had used his fist 
instead of his open hand on the junior partner’s face. 

This, of course, had singularly little bearing on his 
declaration to von Kerber, who metaphorically stuck 

n 


The Compact 

his talons into that portion of Royson’s utterance 
which interested him. He bent across the table, lean- 
ing on his curved fingers, spread apart, like claws. 

“ Ah,” he said slowly. “ That is good. You 
would not betray a man who trusted you. You mean 
that?” 

“I do.” 

“Very well, then. I offer you the position of second 
mate on my yacht, the Aphrodite. She is a sailing 
vessel, with auxiliary steam, a seaworthy craft, of 
two hundred and eighty tons. I pay well, but I ask 
good service. The salary is <£20 per month, all found. 
The captain, two officers, and fourteen men receive 
ten per cent of the gross profits of a certain under- 
taking — the gross profits, remember — divided in 
proportion to their wages. If successful, your share, 
small though it sounds, will be large enough to make 
you a comparatively rich man. Do you accept, 
yes?” 

Dick Royson felt his heart thumping against his 
ribs. “Why, of course, I accept,” he cried. “But 
your terms are so generous, to a man without a pro- 
fession, that I must ask you one thing ? Is the affair 
such as an honest man can take part in?” 

“It is. No one can cavil at its honesty. Yet we 
may encounter difficulties. There may be fighting, 
not against a government, but to defend our — our 
gains — from those who would rob us.” 

“I’m with you, heart and soul,” cried Royson, 
stirred out of his enforced calmness. “Indeed, I am 
23 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


exceedingly obliged to you. I am at a loss to account 
for my amazing good luck.” 

The Baron snapped his fingers with a fine air. 
“ Good luck ! ” he exclaimed. ‘‘ There is no such 
thing. A man with intelligence and nerve grasps the 
opportunity when it presents itself. You took it this 
morning. You may say that you might not have been 
given the chance. Nonsense, my dear Mr. King! 
Missing that, you would have found another. Let me 
tell you that I have created a place for you on the 
ship’s roll. You took my fancy. I had already secured 
my crew. They are all Englishmen — stupid fellows, 
some of them, but trustworthy. You are a trustworthy 
race, yes ? ” 

“That is our repute. I have met exceptions.” 

“ Oh, as for that, every man has his price. That is 
why I pay well. Now, I am going out to dine. The 
Aphrodite sails this week. You will sign an agreement, 
yes?” 

“Delighted,” said Dick, though bitter experience 
had taught him that von Kerber’s last question might 
reveal some disagreeable feature hitherto unseen, just 
as the sting of the scorpion lies in its tail. 

The Baron handed him a printed document. 

“Read that,” he said. “You need have no fear of 
legal quibbles. It contains nothing unreasonable, but 
I insist on its observance in letter and spirit.” 

Certainly, no unfair demand was made by the brief 
contract which Royson glanced at. He noticed that 
the Aphrodite was described as “owned by Hiram 
24 


The Compact 

Fenshawe, Esq., of Chalfount Manor, Dorset, and 
Emperor’s Gate, London, W.,” while Baron Franz . 
von Kerber figured as “controller and head of the 
expedition.” The agreement was to hold good for 
six months, with an option, “vesting solely in the said 
Baron Franz von Kerber,” to extend it, month by 
month, for another equal period. There were blanks 
for dates and figures , and one unusual clause read: 

“The undersigned hereby promises not to divulge 
the vessel’s destination or mission, should either, or 
both, become known to him; not to give any informa- 
tion which may lead to inquiry being made by others 
as to her destination or mission, and not to make any 
statement, in any form whatsoever, as to the success or 
otherwise of the voyage at its conclusion, unless at the 
request of the said Baron Franz von Kerber. The 
penalty for any infringement of this clause, of which 
Baron Franz von Kerber shall be the judge, shall be 
dismissal, without any indemnity or payment of the 
special bonus hereinafter recited.” 

Then followed the salary clause, and a stipulation 
as to the ten per cent share of the gross profits. The 
Baron’s promises could not have been phrased in 
more straightforward style. 

“ Give me a pen,” said Royson, placing the paper 
on a blotting pad. 

There was an unconscious masterfulness in his voice 
and manner which seemed to startle von Kerber. In 
very truth, the younger man was overjoyed at the 
astounding turn taken by his fortunes. The restraint 
he had imposed on himself earlier was gone. He 
25 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


wanted to wring the Baron’s hand and hail him as his 
best friend. Perhaps the other deemed this attitude 
a trifle too free and easy in view of the relations that 
would exist between them in the near future. 

“You will find a pen on the ink-stand,” said he, 
quietly, stooping over some papers on a corner of the 
table. Then he added, apparently as an afterthought: 

“ Don’t forget your name, Mr. King.” 

The hint brought Royson back to earth. He signed 
“ Richard King,” dried the ink carefully, and marveled 
a little at his re-christening and its sequel. 

“When and where shall I report myself for duty, 
sir?” he asked. 

Von Kerber looked up. His tone grew affable 
again, and Dick had learnt already that it is a token 
of weakness when a man insists on his own predomi- 
nance. 

“First let me fill in a date and the amount of your 
salary.” The Baron completed and signed a duplicate. 
“ Get that stamped at Somerset House, in case of 
accident,” he continued, “I might have been killed 
this very day, you know. One of my servants will 
witness both documents. Before he comes in, put this 
envelope in your pocket. It contains half of your 
first month’s salary in advance, and you will find in it 
a card with the address of a firm of clothiers, who will 
supply your outfit free of charge. Call on them early 
to-morrow, as the time is short, and you are pretty 
long, yes? Report yourself to the same people at 
four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon. They will have 
26 


The Compact 

your baggage ready, and give you full directions. 
From that moment you are in my service. And now, 
the order is silence, yes ? ” 

While the Baron was speaking he touched an elec- 
tric bell. The waxen-faced man-servant appeared, 
laboriously wrote “ William Jenkins ” where he was bid, 
and escorted Royson to the door. The Baron merely 
nodded when Dick said “Good night, sir.” He had 
picked up an opera hat and overcoat from a chair, 
but was bestowing a hasty farewell glance on the 
Persi-Arabic letter. 

A closed carriage and pair of horses were standing 
in front of the house, and Royson recognized the 
coachman. It was that same Spong who had groveled 
in the mud of Buckingham Palace Road nine hours 
ago. And the man knew him again, for he raised his 
whip in a deferential salute. 

“ Not much damage done this morning ? ” cried Dick. 

“No, sir. I drove ’em home afterwards, broken 
pole an’ all,” said Spong. 

“ That’s not the same pair, is it ? ” 

“No, sir. This lot is theayter, the bays is park.” 

So Mr. Hiram Fenshawe, whoever he was, owned 
the yacht, and ran at least two fine equipages from his 
town house. He must be a wealthy man. Was he 
the father of that patrician maid whose gratitude 
had not stood the strain of Royson’s gruffness Or, 
it might be, her brother, seeing that he was associated 
with von Kerber in some unusual enterprise.'^ What 
was it ? he vrondered. “ There may be fighting,” said 
27 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

von Kerber. Dick was glad of that. He had taken 
a solemn vow to his dying mother that he would not 
become a soldier, and the dear lady died happy in the 
belief that she had snatched her son from the war- 
dragon which had bereft her of a husband. The 
vow lay heavy on the boy’s heart during many a 
year, for he was a born man-at-arms, but he had kept 
it, and meant to keep it, though not exactly according 
to the tenets of William Penn. Somehow, his mother’s 
beautiful face, wanly exquisite in that unearthly light 
which foreshadows the merging of time into eternity, 
rose before him now as he passed from the aristocratic 
dimness of Prince’s Gate into the glare and bustle of 
Knightsbridge. A newsboy rushed along, yelling at 
the top of his voice. The raucous cry took shape: 
“Kroojer’s reply. Lytest from Sarth Hafricar.” That 
day’s papers had spoken of probable war, and Royson 
wanted to be there. He had dreamed of doing some 
work for the press, and was a reader and writer in his 
spare time, while he kept his muscles fit by gymnastics. 
But those past yearnings were merged in his new call- 
ing. He was a sailor now, a filibuster of sorts. The 
bo’s’n’s whistle would take the place of the bugle-call. 
Would that have pleased his mother.? Well, poor 
soul, she had never imagined that her son would be 
compelled to chafe his life out at a city desk. The 
very air of London had become oppressive; the hurry- 
ing crowd was unsympathetic to his new-found joy of 
living; so, without any well-defined motive, he sought 
the ample solitude of the park. 

28 


The Compact 

Be it noted that he usually went straight from point 
to point without regard to obstacles. Hence, in his 
devious wanderings of that remarkable day, he was 
departing from fixed habit, and, were he a student 
of astrology, he would assuredly have sought to ascer- 
tain what planets were in the ascendant at a quarter- 
past ten in the morning, and half-past seven in the 
evening. For he had scarcely reached the quiet gloom 
of the trees when a man, who had followed him since 
he quitted von Kerber’s house, overtook him and 
touched his arm. 

“Beg pardon,” said the stranger, “but are you the 
gentleman who called on Baron von Kerber half an 
hour ago.^” 

“Yes.” Taken unawares, Dick was thrown off his 
guard for the instant. 

“ And you left his house just now ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“To prevent a mistake, may I ask your name ? ” 

“ Certainly. It is Royson, Richard Royson.” 

“And address 

A curious ring of satisfaction in the newcomer’s voice 
carried a warning note with it. Dick was conscious, 
too, that he had departed from the new role assigned 
to him by his employer, yet it would be absurd to begin 
explaining that he was not known as Royson, but as 
King, in connection with von Kerber. The blunder 
annoyed him, and he faced his questioner squarely. 

“ Before I give you any more information I want to 
know who you are,” he said. 

29 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

His downright way of speaking appeared to carry 
conviction. 

“Well, Mr. Royson, I don’t mind telling you that 
I am a private inquiry agent,” was the ominous answer. 
“I am retained by a gentleman who brings a very 
serious charge against von Kerber, and, as I have 
reason to believe that you are only slightly mixed up 
in this affair at present, I am commissioned to offer 
you a handsome reward for any valuable information 
you may give my client or procure for him in the 
future.” 

“Indeed!” said Dick, who was debating whether 
or not to knock the man down. 

“Yes. We mean business, I assure you. This is 
no common matter. Von Kerber is an Austrian, and 
my client is an Italian. Perhaps you know how they 
hate each other as nations, and these two have a pri- 
vate quarrel as well.” 

“What does your employer want to find out?” 
asked Dick. 

“ Well, as a start, he wants to know why von Kerber 
is shipping a crew for a yacht called the Aphrodite.^^ 

“Then he has learned something already?” 

“ Oh, that was too easy. Any one can pump a half- 
drunken sailor.” 

The private inquiry agent spoke confidentially. He 
fancied he had secured the sort of aide he needed, a 
spy of superior intelligence. 

“Suppose I give you that first item of news, what 
is the figure?” 


30 


The Compact 


“Say a fiver.” 

“But I am almost willing to pay that much for the 
pleasure of spreading your nose over your face.” 

There was a sudden gap between the two. Perhaps 
the stranger felt that the rawness of the atmosphere 
demanded brisk movement. 

“Oh, is that it?” snarled he. 

“ Yes, that is it.” 

“You had better be careful what you are doing.” 
Dick had advanced a pace, but the agent sheered off 
twice as far, as though the air between them was not 
only cold but resilient. 

“I shall be quite careful. Just one small punch, 
say a sovereign’s worth. Come, that is cheap enough.” 

Then the man ran off at top speed. Royson could 
have caught him in a few strides, but he did not move. 
He had not meant to hit, only to scare, yet the incident 
was perplexing, and the more he pondered over it the 
less pleased he was at his own lack of finesse, as he 
might have learnt something without fear of indis- 
cretion, seeing that he had nothing to tell. Neverthe- 
less, his final decision was in favor of the first impulse. 
Von Kerber had treated him with confidence — why 
should he wish to possess any disturbing knowledge 
of von Kerber? 

But he refused to be shadowed like a thief. He 
stepped out, left the park at Stanhope Gate, jumped 
on to a passing omnibus, changed it for another in the 
middle of Oxford Street, and walked down Regent 
Street with a well-founded belief that he had defeated 
31 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

espionage for the time. Thereafter, he behaved 
exactly like several hundred thousand young men in 
London that night. He dined, bought some cigars, 
rare luxuries to him, went to a music-hall, soon wearied 
of its inanities, and traveled by an early train to 
Brixton, where he rented cheap lodgings. 

He slept the sleep of sound digestion, which is so 
often confused with a good conscience, and rose be- 
times. At a city tailoring establishment he was 
measured dubiously, being far removed from stock 
size. But a principal made light of difficulties, and 
Royson noticed that he was to be supplied with riding 
breeches and boots in addition to a sea-faring kit, 
while a sola topiy or pith helmet, appeared in the list. 

He asked no questions, was assured that all would 
be in readiness at four o’clock that day, and found 
himself turned loose again in London at an early hour 
with nothing to do. And what do you think he did.^ 
He caught a Mansion-House train to Victoria, waylaid 
the Guards a second time, marched with them valiantly 
to St. James’s, and took a keen delight in their stately 
pageant. He saw his friend, Seymour, strolling to 
and fro with a brother officer in the tiny square, and 
watched him march back to Chelsea with the relieved 
guard. 

Then, with all the zest of seeing London from a new 
standpoint, that of moneyed idleness, he strolled 
towards Hyde Park. He took the road known as the 
Ladies’ Mile, crossed the Serpentine by the bridge, 
and came back by the Row. There, near the Albert 
32 


The Compact 

Gate crossing, a lady had reined in her chestnut hunter 
and was talking to an old gentleman standing near the 
rails. Had Royson stared at her, he might have re- 
membered the eyes, and the finely-cut contours of nose, 
lips and chin. But his acquaintance with fashionable 
society had been severed so completely that he was not 
aware of the new code which permits its votaries to 
stare at a pretty woman; and a riding-habit offers 
sharp contrast to a set of sables. He was passing, all 
unconscious of the interest he had aroused in the lady, 
when he heard her say: 

“Why, grandfather, there he is. Good morning, 
Mr. King. Mr. Fenshawe and I were just talking 
about you.’’ 

Royson would have known her voice anywhere. It 
had the rare distinction of music and perfect diction. 
Amidst the shrill vulgarity which counterfeited wit in 
the average upper class gathering of the period such a 
voice must have sounded like the song of a robin in a 
crowded rookery. 

The unexpected greeting brought a rush of color 
to Dick’s face. But yesterday’s cloud had vanished, 
and his natural embarrassment was obviously that of 
a well-bred man young enough to be delighted by the 
recognition. Moreover, he was not covered with mud, 
nor had his sensibilities been jarred by standards 
representing the hell and heaven of modern existence. 

He lifted his hat. 

“ I am glad to see you have experienced no ill effects 
from yesterday’s shock. Miss Fenshawe,” he said. 

33 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“Not in the least. It was a wonderful escape. 
Even the victoria leaves hospital this afternoon, I am 
told.” 

Mr. Fenshawe, whose silvery-white hair and wrinkled 
skin betokened an age that his erect, spare frame 
would otherwise have concealed, patted Royson’s 
shoulder. 

“You did well, Mr. King, very well. I am much 
beholden to you. And I was pleased to hear from 
Baron von Kerber last night that you have joined our 
expedition.” 

Though of middle height, Mr. Fenshawe had to 
raise his hand as high as his own forehead to reach 
Dick’s back. His eyes were shrewd and keen, with 
the introspective look of the student. Though it was 
more than probable that he was very wealthy, judging 
from the meager details within Royson’s ken, he had 
the semblance of a university professor rather than a 
millionaire. 

“ I think the good fortune is wholly mine, sir,” said 
Dick, trying to answer both at once, and puzzled to 
determine how he could repudiate the name which 
von Kerber had fastened on to him. 

“No, we will not put it that way,” and the other 
seemed to sweep some confusing thought from before 
his mental vision. “ Let us say that the reward will be 
commensurate with the deed. We do not forget, we 
Fenshawes; do we, Irene? Good day, Mr. King. I 
hope to make your better acquaintance. We shall 
see much of each other ere long.” 

34 


The Compact 

Thus dismissed, with another friendly tap on the 
shoulder, Royson had no option but to raise his hat 
again. He received a very gracious smile from Miss 
Fenshawe, and he left the two with a curious con- 
sciousness that there was at least one woman in the 
world who had the power to send his blood whirling 
through his veins. 

As he walked off under the trees, the eyes of grand- 
father and granddaughter followed him. 

“A useful man that, for work in the desert,’’ said 
Mr. Fenshawe. 

“Yes. Quite a Crusader in appearance,” mused 
the girl aloud. 

The old man laughed noiselessly. 

“ I find you are only half persuaded as to the peace- 
able nature of our task, Irene,” he said. 

“I find it even more diflficult to persuade you that 
Count von Kerber fears interference, grandad.” 

“My dear child, these foreigners are all nerves. 
Look at me. I have spent twenty years of my life 
among the Arabs, and felt safer there than in a London 
crowd.” 

“Yes, you dear old thing, but you are not Count 
von Kerber.” 

“Nerves, Irene, nothing else. At any rate, your 
Mr. King should adjust the average in that respect. 
And if you begin to talk of risk I shall have to recon- 
sider my decision to take you with us.” 

The chestnut threw up his head, and pranced ex- 
citedly, having been warned that a gallop was imminent. 

35 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“No, you don’t,” laughed Irene. “ If we Fenshawes 
do not forget, we also stick together. By-by. See 
you at lunch.” 

And she was gone, sitting her horse with the ease 
and sureness of one of those Arabs in whom her grand- 
father placed such confidence. 


36 


CHAPTER III 


A CHANGE OF SKY, BUT NOT OF HABIT 

Royson had time and to spare for the analysis of 
events during the remainder of the day. In spite of 
von Kerber’s repudiation of luck, he believed that the 
fickle jade sometimes favored a man, and he counted 
himself thrice fortunate in having met with an adven- 
ture leading to such an unforeseen opening. He 
realized too, that had he been better dressed — were 
his words and manners modeled on smooth conven- 
tion — he would not have received the offer of employ- 
ment on board the Aphrodite. Looked at in cold 
blood, there was nothing sinister in von Kerber’s wish 
to keep his business affairs private. If the Baron were 
mixed up in a quarrel with some unknown Italian, his 
association with people like Mr. Fenshawe and his 
granddaughter supplied a valid excuse for observing 
a certain secrecy. 

To guess the nature of the yacht’s mission was more 
difficult. Any reader of newspapers was aware that 
Morocco, Montenegro and Armenia, not to mention 
the political volcanoes of Finland, Poland, and Carlist 
centers in Spain, provided scope for international 
intrigue even in these prosaic days. But it was a 
37 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


vain thing to imagine that the Fenshawes would be 
involved in any wild-cat scheme of that sort. The 
natural sequel to this thought was — who were they ? 
and the nearest Free Library answered promptly: 

‘‘Fenshawe, Hiram, C.M.G., 2d Class Osmanieh» 
Hon. Fellow of Caius College, Cambridge, landowner 
and colliery proprietor, an enthusiastic Egyptologist, 
Vice-President of Upper Egypt Exploration Society; 
has devoted immense sums of money and many years 
of his life to Egyptian archaeological research. His 
private collection of coins, pottery, gold, silver and 
bronze ornaments, and other works of art having spe- 
cial reference to the Roman occupation of Egypt, is 
probably unequaled. . . . Born at Liverpool, March 
20, 1830; married, June 10, 1854, Hilda, daughter of 
Sir Adolphus Livingston, Nairn. Only son, Hilde- 
brand, born April 27, 1856; married, December 20, 
1880, Irene, 2d daughter of the late Dr. Alfred Stowell, 
LL.D., Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. . . . Mr. 
and Mrs. Hildebrand Fenshawe were lost in the wreck 
of the P. &. O. liner Bokhara, off the Pescadores Is- 
lands, 1892, leaving one daughter, Irene Hildegarde, 
bom February 11, 1882.’’ 

The book supplied other details, but Royson obtained 
from the foregoing extracts a sufficiently clear idea of 
the identity of the two people whom he had encountered 
in the park. Of course, he set his wits to work in- 
stantly to construct new avenues for the promised 
activity of the Aphrodite, but, these imaginings being 
as hopelessly mistaken as are most other human peeps 
into futurity, they served only to keep him on tenter- 
hooks until he revisited the outfitters’ establishment. 


38 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

There he was handed the keys of two large steel trunks, 
canvas-covered, and requested to assure himself that 
they contained all the articles set forth on a list. The 
manager also gave him a first-class ticket for Marseilles, 
and a typewritten instruction that he was to travel by 
the nine o’clock train from Victoria that evening. On 
arriving at the French port he would find the Aphrodite 
moored in No. 3. Basin, and he was requested not to 
wear any portion of his uniform until on board the 
yacht. 

The nature of the arrangements, the prodigal supply 
of clothing, rather took Dick’s breath away. Even the 
initials, “R. K.,” were painted on the trunks and 
stitched on to the canvas. 

“My employer seems to have done things pretty 
thoroughly,” he could not help saying. 

The shopman dug a compliment out of the remark. 

“ Our house has a reputation to maintain,” he 
answered, “and Mr. Fenshawe is one of our best and 
oldest customers.” 

There was no mention of Count von Kerber, which 
added a ripple to the wave of astonishment in Royson’s 
breast. He took his baggage to Charing Cross in a 
cab, and deposited it there. Meanwhile, he learned 
from a further scrutiny of the list that his own few be- 
longings were hardly wanted. He had not been so well 
equipped since he left Heidelberg to rush to his mother’s 
death-bed. Nevertheless, having already gathered in 
a valise some books, photographs, letters, and other 
odds and ends, he went to Brixton to obtain them. 

39 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


While giving a farewell glance around his dingy 
room, an old envelope, thrown aside overnight, re- 
minded him of a half-formed idea, which appealed to 
him strongly now that he knew his port of departure. 

So he wrote a short letter: 

“Dear Mr. Forbes: 

“ You were kind to me four years ago, as kind as Sir 
Henry Royson would permit you to be towards one 
who had wilfully and irreparably insulted him. My 
feelings with regard to him have undergone no change. 
He may be dead, for all I know, or care. But you, I 
suppose, are still the trusted solicitor of the Cuddesham 
estate, and Sir Henry Royson, if alive, may have re- 
mained unmarried. In that event, I am heir to a bar- 
ren title, and it may save you some trouble if I inform 
you that I am leaving England. For reasons of no 
consequence, I am passing under the name of Richard 
King. If I return, or settle down in some other land, 
I will write to you, say, after the lapse of a year. Please 
regard this note as strictly private, and do not interpret 
it as foreshadowing any attempt on my part to arrive 
at a reconciliation with Sir Henry Royson.” 

He was about to add the briefest announcement of 
his new career, but he checked himself; had not von 
Kerber forbidden the giving of any information ? 

He signed the letter, and addressed it to the senior 
partner of a firm of solicitors in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. 
Then, indeed, he felt that he had snapped the last 
slender link that bound him to the dull life of the 
city. Like Kent, he vowed that “freedom lies hence, 
and banishment is here.” And he had always hated 
Brixton, which was unjust to that pleasant suburb, but 
40 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

the days of his sojourn there had been days of bond- 
age. 

He was among the first to secure a seat in the Con- 
tinental mail. Having registered those superb trunks 
through to Marseilles, and reserved a comfortable 
corner by depositing his valise there, he strolled up 
and down the platform, and quietly scrutinized his 
fellow passengers. So far as he could judge, none of 
the earlier arrivals were prospective shipmates. Two 
bronzed men, of free gait, with that trick of carrying 
the hands back to front which singles out the sailor 
from the rest of humanity, drew him like a lodestone. 
But he soon discovered that they were P. & O. oflicers, 
bidding farewell to a friend bound for Egypt. 

At last he came upon a man and a woman, a re- 
markable pair under any circumstances, but specially 
interesting to him, seeing that the man gripped an 
ancient carpet bag on which was pasted a label with 
the glaring superscription: “Captain John Stump, 
yacht Aphrodite, Marsails.” The address was half 
written, half printed, and the quaintly phonetic spelling 
of the concluding word betrayed a rugged independence 
of thought which was certainly borne out by Captain 
John Stump’s appearance. The written label might 
be wrong; not so that stamped by Neptune on a weather- 
beaten face and a figure like a capstan. Little more 
than five feet in height, he seemed to be quite five 
feet wide. If it be true that a poet is born, not made. 
Captain Stump was a master mariner from his cradle. 
Royson had never before seen such a man. Drawn 
41 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


out to Royson’s stature he would yet have remained 
the broader of the two. The lady with him, evidently 
Mrs. Stump, was mated for him by happy chance. 
Short men usually marry tall women, and your sons 
of Anak will select wives of fairy-like proportions. 
But Mrs. Stump was even shorter than her husband, 
and so plump withal, that a tape measure round 
her shoulders might have given her the prize for girth. 

Captain Stump was examining the interior of each 
carriage suspiciously when he set eyes on the P. & O. 
officers. 

“ Port yer helium, Becky,” he growled, and the two 
turned to the right-about. It happened that he entered 
Royson’s compartment. There were not many first- 
class passengers that night, so Royson promptly took 
possession of his own corner, lit a pipe, and unobtru- 
sively watched his future commander. This was not 
difficult, as Stump stood near the open door, and 
each word he uttered was audible. 

“Don’t want to berth alongside sailor-men to-night, 
Becky,” he said, after sizing up Dick in a comprehensive 
glance. “ Them’s my sailin’ orders. ‘ Hoist no colors,’ 
sez he, ‘until you bring to at Marseilles.’” 

“What’s your first port of call, John?” asked his 
wife. 

“Dunno. I’ll send you a wire.” 

A pause. Then Mrs. Stump: 

“ Will you be long in Marseilles, John ? ” 

Dick thought that this would be impossible anywhere, 
but Stump answered: 


42 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

“Mebbe half an hour, mebbe a week. You know 
all that I know, Becky.” 

“ It’s funny.” 

Captain Stump spat, and agreed that it was — em- 
phatically funny. A ticket inspector approached. 

“ Going on, sir } ” he asked. 

“ Goin’ on ? Of course I am. What in thunder 
d’ye think I’m stannin’ here for?” demanded the 
captain. 

“ But if you stand there, sir, you’ll get left,” said the 
official good-humoredly. 

“ Better get in, John, an’ don’t argy with the gentle- 
man,” said Mrs. Stump. 

Her husband obeyed, grudgingly. The inspector 
examined his ticket, and Royson’s, and locked the 
door. 

“ Nice thing ! ” grumbled Stump. “ I can’t give you 
a good-by hug now, Becky.” 

This was literally true. The captain’s breadth of 
beam had never been contemplated by the designers 
of South-Eastern railway carriages. Even when the 
door was open, he had to enter sideways, and the 
brass rail across the window rendered it a physical 
impossibility to thrust head and shoulders outside. 

The shrill whistle of a guard was answered by a 
colleague. 

“ Take care of yourself, John,” said Becky. 

“No fear! And mind you wait till the ’bus stops 
to-night. The other evening — ” 

Royson never learnt what had befallen Mrs. Stump 
43 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


on that other evening. At the moment the train began 
to move, he saw a man peeping into the carriage as if 
he were looking for some one. He believed it was the 
private inquiry agent whom he had shaken off so 
effectively in Hyde Park. The gloom of the station, 
and the fact that the man’s face was in shadow, made 
him doubtful, but, as the train gathered speed, the 
watcher on the platform nodded to him and smiled 
derisively. Captain Stump had quick eyes. He turned 
to Royson. 

“ Beg pardon, mister, but is that a friend of yours ? ” 
he asked. 

“No,” said Dick. 

“Well, he was signalin’ somebody, an’ it wasn’t me.” 

Then remarking that the unknown craft looked like 
a curiously-colored pirate, the captain squeezed himself 
into a seat. When the train ran into and backed out 
of Cannon Street, Stump was puzzled. He opened the 
carpet bag, and drew forth a ship’s compass, which he 
consulted. After a few minutes’ rapid traveling his 
doubts seemed to subside, and he replaced the com- 
pass. Producing a cake of tobacco, he cut off several 
shavings with an exceedingly sharp knife, rolled them 
between his broad palms, filled a pipe, lit it, and 
whetted the knife on the side of his boot. Dick noticed 
that all his actions were wonderfully nimble for a man 
of his build. Any stranger who imagined that this 
squat Hercules was slow and ponderous in movement 
would be wofully mistaken if he based hostilities on 
that presumption. 


44 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

Perhaps the captain missed the companionship of 
the stout lady he had parted from at Charing Cross, 
or it might be that his grulfness was a matter of habit — 
at any rate, after a puff or two, he spoke to Royson 
again. 

“D’ye know wot time we’re due at Dover?” he 
asked. 

“Yes, at 10.50.” 

“ We don’t stop long there ? ” 

“No. The boat sails ten minutes later.” 

“ Good. I don’t cotton on to these blessed trains. 
Every time they jolt I fancy we’re on the rocks. Give 
me a ship, an’ the steady beat of the screw, sez I. 
Then I know where I am.” 

“ I quite agree with you, captain, but you must put 
up with a fair spell of railway bumping before you 
reach Marseilles.” 

Stump gave him a questioning look. Royson did 
not resemble the type of land shark with which he was 
familiar. Yet his eyes gleamed like those of a perplexed 
bull. 

“I s’pose you heard my missus an’ me talking of 
Marseilles,” he growled, “but how do you know I’m 
a captain.” 

“ It is written on your bag.” 

“ Well, my missus wrote that — ” 

“Moreover,” went on Dick, determined to break 
the ice, “I’m your second mate.” 

“ Wot ? ” roared Stump, leaning forward and placing 
a hand on each knee, while his fiery glance took in 
45 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


every detail of Roy son’s appearance. “You — my — 
second — mate ? ” 

The words formed a crescendo of contemptuous 
analysis. But Dick faced the storm boldly. 

“Yes,” he said. “I don’t see any harm in stating 
the fact, now that I know who you are.” 

“Harm! Who said anything about harm? Wot 
sort of sailor d’ye call yerself? Who ever heard of 
a sailor in knickers ? ” 

Then it dawned on Royson that the captain’s wrath 
was comprehensible. There is in eveiy male Briton 
who goes abroad an ingrained instinct that leads him 
to don a costume usually associated with a Highland 
moor. Why this should be no man can tell, but nine 
out of ten Englishmen cross the Channel in sporting 
attire, and Royson was no exception to the rule. In 
his case a sheer revolt against the “office” suit had 
induced him to dress in clothes which recalled one 
glorious summer on the Westmoreland hills. Their 
incongruity did not appeal to him until Captain Stump 
forcibly drew attention thereto, and his hearty laugh 
at the way in which he was enlightened did not tend 
to soothe his skipper’s indignation. 

“Second mate!” bellowed Stump again, calling the 
heavens to witness that there never was such another. 
“Where’s yer ticket? Seein’ is believin’, they say. 
Who did you go to sea with ? When did you 
pass ? ” 

“ I have no certificate, if that is what you mean, and 
I have never been to sea,” said Royson. 

46 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

This remark impressed Stump as an exquisite joke. 
His rage yielded to a rumble of hoarse laughter. 

“Lord love a duck!” he guffawed. “If only I’d 
ha’ knowed, I could have told my missus. It would 
have cheered her up for a week. Never mind. We’ve 
a few minutes in Dover. I’ll send her a picture post- 
card. It’ll ’arf tickle ’er to death.” 

Evidently the captain meant to add certain explana- 
tory remarks which would account for that Gargantuan 
tickling. Dick, anxious not to offend his future com- 
mander, smiled sheepishly, and said: 

“Sorry I can’t supply you with a photograph.” 

Stump’s gaze rested on his stockings, loose breeches, 
Norfolk jacket and deerstalker cap. 

“Damme,” he grinned, “it’s better than a panto- 
mime. Second mate ! Is there any more like you on 
the train ? P’haps that chap in the next caboose, in a 
fur coat an’ top hat, is the steward. An’ wot’ 11 Tagg 
say?” 

“I don’t know,” said Dick, half inclined to resent 
this open scorn. “Who is Tagg, anyhow?” 

Stump instantly became silent. He seemed to re- 
member his “ sailing orders.” He muttered something 
about “playin’ me for a sucker,” and shut his lips 
obstinately. Not another word did he utter until they 
reached Dover. He smoked furiously, gave Royson 
many a wrathful glance, but bottled up the tumultuous 
thoughts which troubled him. On board the steamer, 
however, curiosity conquered prudence. After survey- 
ing Dick’s unusual proportions from several points of 
47 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


view, he came up and spoke in what he intended to 
be a light comedy tone. 

“ I say, Mr. Second Mate,” he said, “ I don’t see the 
Plimsoll Mark on the funnel. Do you ^ ” 

“No, captain. I expect it has been washed off.” 

“ If I was you I’d write to the Board of Trade about 
it.” 

“Best let sleeping dogs lie, captain.” 

“Why?” 

“ Because they might look for yours, and as it ought 
to be round your neck they would say you were unsea- 
worthy.” 

“ So you know what it is, you long swab ? ” 

“Yes. Come and have a drink. That will reach 
your load-line all right.” 

Royson had hit on the right method of dealing with 
Stump. The skipper promised himself some fun, and 
they descended to the saloon. The Channel was in 
boisterous mood, and Dick staggered once or twice in 
transit. Stump missed none of this, and became more 
jovial. Thus might one of the Hereford stots he 
resembled approach a green pasture. 

“ If you ask the steward he’ll bring you some belayin’ 
tackle,” he said. 

“I am a trifle crank just now,” admitted Royson, 
“but when the wind freshens I’ll take in a reef or 
two.” 

Stump looked up at him. 

“You’ve put me clean out of reckonin’. Never bin 
to sea, you say ? Wot’s yer name ? ” 

48 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

“King, Richard King.” 

“Damme, Fm cornin' to like you. You’re a bit of 
a charak-ter. By the time the Aphrodite points her 
nose home again I’ll ’ave you licked into shape.” 

They were crossing the saloon, and were sufficiently 
noteworthy by force of contrast to draw many eyes. 
Indeed, were Baron von Kerber on board, he must 
have been disagreeably impressed by the fact that in 
sending the short skipper and the long second mate 
of the Aphrodite to Marseilles in company he had 
supplied an unfailing means of tracking their move- 
ments. Of course, he was not responsible for the 
chance that threw them together, but the mere presence 
of two such men on the same vessel would be remem- 
bered quite easily by those who make it their business 
to watch trans-Channel passengers. 

Royson gave no thought to this factor in the queer 
conditions then shaping his life- Had Stump remained 
taciturn, it might have occurred to him that they were 
courting observation. But it needed the exercise of 
much resourcefulness to withstand the stream of ques- 
tions with which his commander sought to clear the 
mystery attached to a second mate who knew not 
the sea. Luckily, he emerged from the flood with 
credit; nay, the examiner himself was obliged at times 
to assume a knowledge which he did not possess, for, 
if Stump knew how to con a ship from port to port, 
Royson could give reasons for great circle sailing which 
left Stump gasping. At last, the stout captain could 
no longer conceal his amazement when Royson had 
49 


The Wheel o' Fortune 

recited correctly the rules of the road for steamships 
crossing : 

If to my Starboard Red appear. 

It is duty to keep clear; 

Act as judgment says is proper — 

“Port” — or “Starboard” — “Back” — or “Stop her!” 

But when upon my Port is seen 
A steamer’s Starboard light of green, 

For me there’s naught to do, but see 
That Green to Port keeps clear of me. 

“Come, now,” he growled, “wofs your game? 
D’ye mean to say you’ve bin humbuggin’ me all this 
time ? ” 

His little eyes glared redly from underneath his 
shaggy eyebrows. He was ready to sulk again, without 
hope of reconciliation, so Royson perforce explained. 

“I have no objection to telling you, captain, how I 
came to acquire a good deal of unusual information 
about the sea, but I want to stipulate, once and for 
all, that I shall not be further questioned as to my 
past life.” 

“Go ahead! That’s fair.” 

“ Well, I have spent many a day, since I was a boy 
of ten until I was nearly twenty, sailing a schooner- 
rigged yacht on Windermere. My companion and 
tutor was a retired commander of the Royal Navy, 
and he amused himself by teaching me navigation. 
I learnt it better than any of the orthodox sciences I 
had to study at school. You see, that was my hobby, 
while a wholesome respect for my skipper led me to 
work hard. I have not forgotten what I was taught, 
50 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

though the only stretch of water I have seen during 
the last few years is the Thames from its bridges, and 
I honestly believe that if you will put up with my want 
of experience of the sea for a week or so, I shall be 
quite capable of doing any work you may entrust to 
me.’’ 

“By gad!” said Stump admiringly, “you’re a won- 
der. Come on deck. I’ll give you a tip or two as 
we go into Calais.” 

During the journey across France it was natural 
that Royson should take the lead. He spoke the 
language fluently, whereas Stump’s vocabulary was 
limited to a few forcible expressions he had picked up 
from brother mariners. There was a break-down on 
the line near Dijon, which delayed them eight hours, 
and Stump might have had apoplexy were not Royson 
at hand to translate the curt explanations of railway 
officials. But the two became good friends, which 
was an excellent thing for Dick, and the latter soon 
discovered, to his great surprise, that Stump had never 
set eyes on the Aphrodite. 

“No,” he said, when some chance remark from 
Royson had elicited this curious fact, “ she’s a stranger 
to me. Me an’ Tagg — Tagg is my first mate, you 
see — had just left the Chirria when she was sold to 
the Germans out of the East Indian trade, an’ we was 
lookin’ about for wot might turn up when the man who 
chartered the Aphrodite put us on to this job. Tagg 
has gone ahead with most of the crew, but I had to 
stop in London a few days — to see after things a bit.” 

51 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Stump had really remained behind in order to buy 
a complete set of charts, but he checked his confidences 
at that point, nor did Royson endeavor to probe further 
into the recent history of the yacht. 

Instead of traversing Marseilles at night, they drove 
through its picturesque streets in broad daylight. Both 
Royson and the captain were delighted with the lines 
of the Aphrodite when they saw her in the spacious 
dock. Her tapering bows and rakish build gave her 
an appearance of greater size than her tonnage war- 
ranted. Royson was sailor enough to perceive that 
her masts and spars were intended for use, and, when 
he reached her deck, to which much scrubbing and 
vigorous holy-stoning had given the color of new 
bread, he knew that none but men trained on a war- 
ship had coiled each rope and polished every inch of 
shining brass. 

And his heart sank a little then. The looks and 
carriage of the few sailors visible at the moment be- 
tokened their training. How could he hope to hold 
his own with them ? The first day at sea must reveal 
his incompetence. He would be the laughing-stock of 
the crew. 

He was almost nervous when an undersized hairy 
personage shoved a grinning face up a companionway, 
and hailed Stump joyfully. Then the captain did a 
thing which went far to prove that true gentility is not 
a matter of deportment or mincing phrase. 

“ Keep mum before this crowd,” he muttered. 
“Stand by, and I’ll pull you through.” 

52 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

Stump extended a gigantic hand to the hairy one. 
“Glad to see you again, old Never-fail,” he roared. 
“ Let me introjuice our second mate. Mr. Tagg — 
Mr. King. An’ now, Tagg, wot’s for breakfast ? Mr. 
King an’ me can eat a Frenchman if you have nothin’ 
tastier aboard.” 

Royson was relieved to find that he had practically 
no duties to perform until the yacht sailed. She had 
been coaled and provisioned by a Marseilles firm of 
shipping agents, and only awaited telegraphic orders 
to get up steam, in case the wind were unfavorable 
for beating down the Gulf of Lions, when Mr. Fen- 
shawe and his party arrived. 

Every member of the crew was of British birth, and 
Britons are not, as a rule, endowed with the gift of 
tongues. Hence, Royson was the only man on board 
who spoke French, and this fact led directly to his 
active participation in the second act of the drama of 
love and death in which, all unconsciously, he was 
playing a leading part. On the day after his arrival 
in the French port, the head partner of the firm of 
local agents came on board and explained that, by 
inadvertence, some cases of claret of inferior vintage 
had been susbtituted for the wine ordered. The mis- 
take had been discovered in the counting-house, and 
he was all apologies. 

Royson and he chatted together while the goods were 
being exchanged, and, in the end, the polite Frenchman 
invited messieurs les officiers to dine with him, and visit 
the Palais de Glace, where some daring young lady 
53 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

was announced to do things in a motor-car which, in 
England, are only attempted by motor omnibuses. 

Stump, who would not leave the yacht, permitted 
Tagg and Royson to accept the proffered civility. 
They passed a pleasant evening, and saw the female 
acrobat negotiate a thirty -feet jump, head downward, 
taken through space by the automobile. Then they 
elected to walk to No. 3. Basin, a distance of a mile 
and a half. It was about eleven o’clock and a fine 
night. The docks road, a thoroughfare cut up by 
railway lines holding long rows of empty wagons, 
seemed to be quite deserted. Tagg, who was slightly 
lame, though active as a cat on board ship, was not 
able to walk fast. The two discussed the performance, 
and other matters of slight interest, and they paid 
little heed to the movements of half a dozen men, who 
appeared from behind some coal trucks, until the 
strangers advanced towards them in a furtive and 
threatening way. But nothing happened. The 
prowlers sheered off as quickly as they came. Tagg, 
who had the courage which Providence sends to puny 
men, glanced up at Royson and laughed. 

“Your size saved us from a fight,” he said. “That 
gang is up to mischief.” 

“I wonder what they are planning,” said Royson, 
looking back to see if he could distinguish any other 
wayfarers on the ill-lighted road. 

“Robbery, with murder thrown in,” was Tagg’s 
brief comment. 

“ They had the air of expecting somebody. Did you 
54 


A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

think that ? What do you say if we wait in the shadow 
a few minutes?” 

“ Better mind our own business/' said Tagg, but he 
did not protest further, and the two halted in the gloom 
of a huge warehouse. 

There was nothing visible along the straight vista 
of the road, but, after a few seconds’ silence, they heard 
the clatter and rumble of a vehicle crossing a distant 
drawbridge. 

“ Some skipper cornin’ to his ship,” muttered Tagg. 
“ It can’t be ours. By George, if those chaps tackled 
him they would be sorry for themselves.” 

“ Captain Stump is a good man in a row, I take it ? ” 

“ ‘ Good ’ isn’t the word. He’s a terror. I’ve seen 
him get six of his men out of a San Francisco crimp’s 
house, an’ I s’pose you ’aven’t bin to sea without 
knowing wot that means.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Royson admiringly. He had found 
safety many times during the past two days by some 
such brief comment. Thus did he steer clear of 
conversational rocks. 

The carriage drew nearer, and became dimly visible 
— it was one of the tiny voiturettes peculiar to French 
towns. Suddenly the listeners heard a shout. The 
horse’s feet ceased their regular beat on the roadway. 
Royson began to run, but Tagg vociferated: 

“Wait for me, you long ijiot! If you turn up alone 
they’ll knife you before you can say ‘ Jack Robinson.’ ” 

Dick had no intention of saying “ Jack Robinson,” 
but he moderated his pace, and helped Tagg over the 
55 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


ground by grasping his arm. They soon saw that two 
men had pulled the driver off the box, and were holding 
him down — indeed, tying him hand and foot. Royson 
prevented the success of this operation by a running 
kick and an upper cut which placed two Marseillais 
out of action. Then he essayed to plunge into a 
fearsome struggle that was going on inside the car- 
riage. Frantic oaths in German and Italian lent 
peculiar significance to a flourishing of naked knives. 
But that which stirred the blood in his veins was his 
recognition of Baron von Kerber’s high-pitched voice, 
alternately cursing and pleading for life to assailants 
who evidently meant to show scant mercy. One man 
who, out of the tail of his eye, had witnessed Dick’s 
discomfiture of the coachman’s captors, drew a revolver, 
a weapon not meant for show, as its six loaded chambers 
proved when Dick picked it up subsequently. 

Royson had no love of unnecessary risk. Stooping 
quickly, he grasped the hub of the off front wheel, 
and, just varying the trick which saved Miss Fenshawe 
in Buckingham Palace Road, threw the small vehicle 
over on its side. No doubt the patient animal in the 
shafts wondered what was happening, but the five 
struggling men in the interior were even more surprised 
when they were pitched violently into the road. 

Royson sprang into the midst of them, found von 
Kerber, and said: 

“You’re all right now, Baron. We can whip the 
heads off these rascals.” 

The sound of his English tongue seemed to take all 
56 









w,^- -bb^ 


* • 1 . 




#T 


» t 


V . 


V" 


-i-^'‘- W-Sy. ■'»: 

^ \ < T • J| • % 

' i UMk .^ 2 .' ' ^ 


,^ir >:.i « • •'"►W 


•r - 



♦ ■ I «. 

■-* • *' ■'' 
■;i^ ^ j ■* 


f . . a‘ ^ • .: . .' ' V -/ 

w#l • . . J ■ 'vv . ii'Ji 






■. 

-N r» < 


LV • ■.^' \ .r ■ r^;-, 


.i' 


■:^y-}---P, 


I • 








^ *i 

. /M ■• - iJi T^'>'’ii 

B a ' ■ 


1 - rtl 

IT*,. “•' '■*l•...•T >i' , 'i'v^ 

Ifc-’ 

SS 


’ • 4 ir' ••^' >U,V>^ 

• ' V' "♦!• . V,/ 

•• * /k* _. * ' 

. ‘Yf-.^ at-. va«w 




• J'^^- •' ’ • i ^ 

■ 'C i'jftSLA# -'*’ L j ■ « *■■ '- 'KHM 




U 


• -< 

11 ‘ 


k->. j ''<4 




V ' 



• ■ -i- 


•.,r 




“Ivet your prisoner go, Mr. King” 


Page 67 



A Change of Sky, but not of Habit 

the fight out of the remaining warriors. Tagg had 
closed valiantly with one, and the others made off. 
Von Kerber rose to his feet, so Royson went to Tagg’s 
assistance. He heard the Baron shriek, in a falsetto 
of rage: 

“You may have recovered the papyrus, Alfieri, but 
it is of no value to you. Name of an Italian dog! I 
have outwitted you even now!” 

While kneeling to pinion the footpad’s arms behind 
his back, thus rescuing Tagg from a professor of the 
savate, Dick tried to guess von Kerber’s motive in 
hurling such an extraordinary taunt after one of his 
runaway adversaries, and in French, too, whereas the 
other had an Italian name, and, in all likelihood, spoke 
only Italian. Was this Alfieri the man who “hated” 
von Kerber — who “ brought a very serious charge ” 
against him.^ But Royson was given no time for 
consecutive thought. The Baron, breathing heavily, 
and seemingly in pain, came to him and said, in the 
low tone of one who does not wish to be overheard: 

“Let your prisoner go, Mr. King. I am all right, 
and everlastingly obliged to you, but I do not wish to 
be detained in Marseilles while the slow French law 
gets to work. So let him go. He is nothing — a mere 
hireling, yes? And we sail to-morrow.” 


57 


CHAPTER IV 


VON KERBER EXPLAINS 

“You’ve left your trademark on this chap,” broke 
in Tagg. He was bending over a prostrate body, and 
the cab-driver was bewailing the plight of his voiturette. 

Royson righted the carriage; then he lifted the man 
to a sitting position, and listened to his stertorous 
breathing. The blow had been delivered on that facial 
angle known to boxers as the “ point,” while its scientific 
sequel is the “knock-out.” 

“He is all right,” was the cool verdict. “He will 
wake up soon and feel rather sick. The general effect 
will be excellent. In future he will have a wholesome 
respect for British sailors.” 

He laid the almost insensible form on the road again, 
pocketed the revolver, which he found close at hand, 
and gave an ear to von Kerber’s settlement with the 
cocker. The latter was now volubly indignant in the 
assessment of damages to his vehicle, hoping to obtain 
a louis as compensation. When he was given a hun- 
dred francs his gratitude became almost incoherent. 

The Baron cut him short, stipulating sternly that he 
must forget what had happened. Then he turned to 
Royson. 


58 


Von Kerber Explains 

“ If you think we can leave the fellow on the ground 
with safety, I want to reach the yacht,” he said. 

“ Are you wounded ? ” inquired Dick. 

“Slightly. Those scoundrels did not dare to strike 
home. They knew my papers would identify them.” 

“ But they robbed you ? ” 

“ No, not of anything valuable. Why do you ask ? ” 

“Because you sang out to one of them, an Italian, 
I should judge — ” 

“Ah, you heard that? You are, indeed, quick in an 
emergency. Can we go on, yes ? ” 

“Certainly. I will just lift our dazed friend into 
the victoria, and tell the cocker to give him a glass of 
cognac at the first cafe he comes to.” 

This was done. Five minutes later, the first and 
second oflScers of the Aphrodite assisted their employer 
up the yacht’s gangway. Leaving Tagg to explain to 
Stump what had happened, Royson took von Kerber 
to his cabin, and helped to remove his outer clothing. 
A superficial wound on the neck, and a somewhat 
deeper cut on the right forearm, were the only injuries ; 
the contents of a medicine chest, applied under von 
Kerber’s directions, soon staunched the flow of blood. 

“ I do not wish anything to be said about this affair,” 
began the Baron, when Royson would have left 
him. 

“Tagg must have given the captain full details 
already,” said Dick. 

“ But did he hear that name, Alfieri ? ” 

“I think not.” 

59 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

“ And he would not understand about the — er — 
document ? ” 

“ The papyrus,” suggested Royson. 

"Yes.” 

"No. I don’t suppose he would understand the 
word in English, whereas you spoke French.” 

"Ah, yes, of course. Well, that is between you and 
me. Will you ask Captain Stump and Mr. Tagg to 
join us in a bottle of wine? I would put matters in 
my own way, yes?” 

The Baron, after a slight hesitancy, made his wishes 
clear. Mr. Fenshawe and his party would arrive at 
Marseilles by the train de luxe next morning, and 
preparations must be made for instant departure as 
soon as they came on board. They would be alarmed 
needlessly if told of the affray on the quay, so it was 
advisable that nothing should be said about it. 

"You see,” purred the Baron affably, refilling the 
glasses which Stump and Tagg had emptied at a gulp, 
" ladies, especially young ones, are apt to be nervous.” 

" Have we wimmen aboard this trip ? ” growled 
Stump in a deep rumble of disapproval. 

"Ladies, yes. Two, and a maid.” 

Stump bore round on his chief. 

"Wot did I tell ye, Tagg?” he demanded fiercely. 
" Didn’t I say that them fixins aft meant no good ? ” 

"You did,” agreed Tagg, with equal asperity. 

Von Kerber caught the laughter in Dick’s eyes, and 
checked the angry protest ready to bubble forth. 

" The two ladies,” he said, speaking with an emphasis 
60 


Von Kerber Explains 

which strove to cloak his annoyance at Stump’s off- 
handed manner, “are Miss Fenshawe, granddaughter 
of the gentleman who owns this yacht, and her com- 
panion, Mrs. Haxton. Without their presence this 
trip would not have been undertaken, and that fact 
had better be recognized at the outset. But now, 
gentlemen, I have come on ahead to have a quiet talk 
with you. Captain Stump knows our destination, but 
none of you is aware of the object of our voyage. I 
propose to take you fully into my confidence in that 
respect. By this time, you have become more or less 
acquainted with the crew, and, if you think any of the 
men are unsuitable, we must get rid of them at once.” 

He paused, and looked at Stump. That broad- 
beamed navigator emptied his glass again, and gazed 
into it fixedly, apparently wondering why champagne 
was so volatile a thing. Tagg followed the skipper’s 
example, but fixed his eyes on the bottle, perhaps in 
calculation. Royson, deeming it wise to hold his 
tongue, contented himself with closing the medicine 
chest, and thus making it possible for von Kerber to 
sit down. 

The latter was obviously ill at ease. Although he 
was the master of these three men, he was their inferior 
in individual strength of character. But he was a 
polished man of the world, and he promptly extricated 
himself from a difficult position, though Royson, at 
least, detected the effort he was compelled to make. 

“ I see you are thinking that one bottle does not go 
far among four of us, Mr. Tagg,” he exclaimed, with a 
61 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


pleasantly patronizing air. “Kindly tell the steward 
to bring another, Mr. King. And some cigars. Then 
we can discuss matters at our ease. And will you make 
sure that we are not overheard What I have to say 
is meant for the ship’s officers alone at this moment, 
though, when the time for action comes, every man 
on board must be with us absolutely.” 

Dick summoned the steward, and ascertained that 
the watch were quietly chatting and smoking forward, 
whereas the Baron’s stateroom was situated aft. The 
delay enabled von Kerber to collect his thoughts. 
When he resumed the promised disclosure, his voice 
was under control, and he spoke with less constraint. 

“It is probable that you gentlemen are not familiar 
with the history of Egypt,” he said, “ but you may take 
it from me that the facts I now lay before you are 
accurate. At one time, about the beginning of the 
Christian era, the Romans were all-powerful in the 
Nile delta. They pushed their stations a long way 
south, almost to the borders of Abyssinia, but it is 
important to remember that they followed the lines 
of the river, not the sea. In the year 24 b.c., the 
Roman Governor, hearing of the great wealth of a 
people called the Sabaeans, whose country lay in 
Arabia, in the hinterland of Mocha and Aden, sent an 
expedition there under the command of ^lius Gallus. 
This legion is historically reported to have met with 
reverses. That is tme, in the sense that its galleys 
were beset by a terrible storm on the return voyage. 
Though the Red Sea is usually a fair-weather lake, 
62 


Von Kerber Explains 

you can have a stiff blow there at times, I believe, 
Captain Stump ? ” 

Thus appealed to. Stump had to open his mouth. 

“ I’ve known it blow like sin,” he said. “ Isn’t that 
so, Tagg ? ” 

“ Wuss nor sin, cap’n. Ord’nary manslaughter isn’t 
in it with a nor’-east gale on a dark night off them 
islands north o’ Perim.” 

“Exactly,” agreed the Baron eagerly. “That is 
where the Roman triremes were caught. They were 
driven ashore in a little bay in what is now Italian 
territory. Their vessels were wrecked, but they saved 
the loot they had taken from the Sabseans. The nature 
and value of that loss can hardly be estimated in these 
days, but you can draw your own conclusions when you 
learn that the city of Saba is more familiar to us under 
its Biblical name, Sheba. It was thence that the 
famous queen came who visited Solomon. Nearly a 
thousand years later, when the Roman legion sacked 
it with fire and sword, it was at the height of its 
glory.” 

Von Kerber, fairly launched in a recital glib on his 
lips, regained the dominance of manner which the 
attitude of his subordinates had momentarily imperiled. 
Increased composure brought with it a certain hauteur, 
and he paused again — perhaps to gratify the actor’s 
instinct in him rather than observe the effect of his 
words. But the break was unfortunate. Tagg re- 
moved the cigar he was half chewing, half smoking, 
and said oracularly: 


63 


The Wheel 6* Fortune 


“The Queen o’ Sheba! I once knew a ship o’ that 
name. D’ye remember her, cap’n?” 

“ Shall I ever forgit ’er ? ” grunted Stump. “ I wish 
them Romans had looted her. W’en I was goin’ down 
the Hooghly, she was cornin’ up, in tow. Her rope 
snapped at the wrong moment, an’ she ran me on top 
of the James an’ Mary shoal. Remember ’er, damn 
’er!” 

The Austrian winced at this check to his story. 
These stolid mariners had no imagination. He wished 
to enthuse them, to fire them with the vision of count- 
less wealth, but they had side-tracked ideality for some 
stupid reminiscence of a collision. In a word, they 
did him good, and he reached the point of his narration 
all the more speedily. 

“As I was saying,” he broke in rapidly, “the ex- 
pedition met with disaster by sea. It was equally 
unfortunate on land. The commander built a small 
encampment, and sent for assistance the only sea- 
worthy vessel left to him. He waited six months, 
but no help came. Then he determined to march 
inland — to strike a bold course for the Nile — but 
he was soon compelled to entrench himself against the 
attacks of hostile tribes. The probability is that the 
Sabseans had interests on the western shores of the Red 
Sea as well as in Arabia. Indeed, the Abyssinians 
hold the belief to this day that their kings are descended 
from a son of the Queen of Sheba and Solomon. How- 
ever that may be, ^lius Gallus buried his treasure, 
threw aside all useless impediments, and, like the 
64 


Von Kerber Explains 

daring soldier he was, decided in favor of attack. 
He fought his way for twenty marches, but was finally 
overthrown, with all his men, by a Nubian clan. The 
Romans were slain without mercy. Their conquerors 
knew nothing of the gold and jewels hidden in the 
desert three hundred miles distant, and that marvelous 
hoard, gathered from Persia and India by generations 
of traders, has lain there for nearly two thousand 
years.” 

This time he was sure he had riveted the attention 
of his hearers. They would have been dull, indeed, 
if their wits were not stirred by the possibilities under- 
lying that last sentence. Royson, of course, jumped 
to conclusions which the others were slow to reach. 
But Stump was not backward in summing up the facts 
in his own way. 

“ Am I right in supposin’ that you know where this 
stuff is hid, Mr. von Kerber?” he asked, his small 
eyes twinkling under the strain of continuous thought. 

“Yes.” 

“ Are you positive ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Does anybody else know?” 

Royson felt that the Baron did not expect this ques- 
tion, but the answer came promptly : 

“Mr. Fenshawe knows, and the two ladies who 
accompany him have a species of general knowledge.” 

“If I took c’rect bearin’s, accordin’ to your yarn 
the cargo is planted some distance from the coast?” 

“About forty miles.” 


65 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“An’, while some of us goes after it, the yacht will 
stand off an’ on, waitin’ orders, an’ mebbe runnin’ to 
Perim or Aden for letters.” 

“You have grasped the situation exactly. Captain 
Stump.” 

The skipper shifted his cigar from one corner of his 
mouth to another. 

“Sink me,” he growled, “I thought it couldn’t be 
gun-runnin’ when there was wimmin mixed up in it. 
Didn’t I say so, Tagg?” 

“You did,” agreed Tagg again. 

“Gun-running!” repeated von Kerber. “You mean 
carrying contraband arms, yes.^^ What put that into 
your head?” 

“I’ve not bin cap’n of a ship nigh on fifteen years 
without lamin’ the importance of knowin’ wot she’s 
loaded with,” said Stump. “Big or little, in package 
or bulk, I go through her manifest, an’ check it, too.” 

The Baron laughed softly. He was pale, probably 
as the result of his wounds, but he was inflexible in his 
resolve to arrive at an understanding with his lieu- 
tenants before the remaining passengers put in an 
appearance. 

Ganz gut, herr capitan!^^ he cried. “You must 
have seen our supply of firearms and cartridges, yes ? ” 

“Twenty rifles, twenty-five revolvers, an’ enough 
ammunition to fight a small war.” Stump ticked off 
each item slowly and looked at Tagg as though he 
expected him to cry “Tally!” 

“ Ah ! That is well put, yes ? If we are called on to 
66 


Von Kerber Explains 

fight a small war, as you say, have we got the right 
sort of men on board? I had to trust to chance. It 
was the only way. I could not talk plainly in England, 
you see.” 

“ I don’t know much about ’em,” said Stump. “ I 
can answer for myself an’ Tagg, an’ from wot I hear, 
Mr. King has a heart of the right size. As for the 
others. I’ll run the rule over ’em between here an’ 
Port Said. If I have any doubts about one or two, 
we can ship ’em home on a P. an’ O. But, from the 
cut of their jibs, most of ’em are deserters from the 
Royal Navy, an’ the remainder are army reserve men. 
That sort of crowd is pretty tough, eh, Tagg ? ” 

“Tough!” echoed Tagg. “If they’re ’lowed to 
eat three solid meals every day like the Lord Mayor’s 
banquets they’ve put out o’ sight since theykem aboard, 
there’ll be no holdin’ ’em.” 

“Oh, yes, there will. I’ll hold ’em,” said Stump. 

“ And you approve of my reticence thus far ? ” asked 
the Baron. 

“ Of your wot, mister ? ” 

“ I mean that it was wise not to tell them the object 
of the voyage.” 

“Take my advice an’ tell ’em nothin’. Wait till 
they’re frizzlin’ in the Red Sea, an’ I’ve worked some 
of the grease out of ’em. By that time, wot between 
prickly heat an’ high livin’, they’ll be ready to kill any 
Gord’s quantity of I-talians.” 

“ Italians ! ” snapped von Kerber irritably, “ Why do 
you speak of Italians ? ” 


67 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“Ifs your fairy-tale, mister, not mine. You said 
that wot’s ’is name, the Roman who went through the 
Shebeens, had planted his takin’s in I-talian territory.” 

“ Ah ! ” The Austrian gasped a little, and his pallor 
increased. “ That is of no consequence — the place 
— is a desert — we shall meet with no interference.” 

Then Royson spoke. Hitherto, he had taken no 
share in the conversation, but he saw that von Kerber 
was unable to withstand any further strain. The man 
was bearing up gallantly, yet he had reached the limit 
of endurance, and the trouble, whatever it was, seemed 
to be wearing his very soul. 

“Neither Captain Stump nor Mr. Tagg knows that 
you are wounded, sir,” said Dick. “ Perhaps it would 
be advisable to defer our talk until the morning.” 

Von Kerber shaded his face with his hands. 

“I cannot add much to what I have said already,” 
he answered. “I think you understand me. I want 
silence — and good service. Give me these and I 
shall repay you tenfold.” 

They went on deck. Stump dug Royson in the ribs. 

“ It would ha’ done me a treat to see you upper cut 
that Frog,” he whispered, his mouth widening in a grin. 
“ I’m good at a straight punch myself, but I’m too 
short for a swing. Lord love a duck, I wish I’d bin 
there.” 

So the burly skipper of the Aphrodite paid slight 
heed to the wonders half revealed by von Kerber’s 
story. He had been stirred but for a moment when the 
project was laid bare. Already his mind was rejecting 
68 


Von Kerber Explains 

it. The only matter that concerned him was to bring 
his ship to her destination in a seaman-like manner, 
and let who would perplex their brains with fantasy. 
Indeed, he was beginning to regard the Baron as a 
harmless lunatic, whom Providence had entrusted with 
the spending of a rich man’s money for the special 
benefit of the seafaring community. 

“A straight punch!” he repeated, gazing with a 
species of solemn joy at the men leaning against the 
rails forward. “They’re a hard-bitten lot from wot 
I’ve seen of ’em, an’ they’ll have to have it before 
they’re at sea with me very long. Won’t they, Tagg ? ” 

“They will,” said Tagg, eying the unconscious 
watch with equal fixity. 

Dick went to his cabin firm in the belief that he would 
lie awake half the night. But his brain soon refused 
to bother itself with problems which time might solve 
in a manner not yet conceivable, and he slept soundly 
until he was roused at an early hour. Day dawned 
bright and clear. A pleasant northwesterly breeze 
swept the smoke haze from off the town and kissed 
the blue waters of the land-locked harbor into white- 
crested wavelets. He took the morning watch, from 
four o’clock until eight, and all he had to do was to 
make sure that the men tried to whiten decks already 
spotless, and cleaned brass which shone in the sun the 
instant that luminary peeped over the shoulder of 
Notre Dame de la Garde. Although the Aphrodite 
lay inside the mole, her bridge and promenade deck 
were high enough to permit him to see the rocky islet 
fi9 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


crowned by the Chateau d’lf. He knew that the hero 
of Dumas’ masterpiece had burrowed a tunnel out of 
that grim prison, to swim ashore an outcast, a man 
with a price on his head, yet bearing with him the 
precious paper whose secret should make him the 
fabulously rich Count of Monte Christo. It was only 
a soul-stirring romance, a dim legend transformed into 
vivid life by the genius of the inspired quadroon. But 
its extraordinary appositeness to the Aphrodite’s quest 
suddenly occurred to the young Englishman watching 
the sunlit isle. He was startled at the thought, espe- 
cially when he contrasted his present condition with his 
depressed awakening in Brixton five days earlier. 
Then he laughed, and a sailor, busily engaged in 
polishing the glass front of the wheel-house, followed 
the direction of his gaze and half interpreted his day- 
dream. 

“It’s a bit of a change from the West India Dock 
Road, ain’t it, sir?” he asked. 

Royson agreed with him, and the two conversed a 
while, but when the man led the chat found to the 
probable destination of the yacht, the second mate’s 
thoughts fell from romance to reality. 

“You will be told soon enough where we’re bound 
for,” he answered sharply. 

“I’m sorry, sir, if I’ve said anything I shouldn’t,” 
said the other. “ But the chaps forrard made out that 
there’s a bit of a mystery in it, an’ I argied they was 
talkin’ nonsense.” 

“You were quite right. The owner and a party of 
70 


Von Kerber Explains 

ladies will oe on board to-day, and then you will find 
out our destination.” 

“Ladies, you say, sir? That settles it. This is no 
Riff pirates job, then ? ” 

Royson turned on his heel. So others, as well as 
Captain Stump, had drawn conclusions from those 
boxes of arms and ammunition ? If Baron Franz von 
Kerber deemed it necessary to provide a warlike equip- 
ment, how could he permit an elderly gentleman like 
Mr. Fenshawe, and a charming girl like Irene, to say 
nothing of others yet unknown to Royson, to share in 
the risk of a venture demanding such safeguards? 
That was a puzzle, but it disturbed Dick not a whit. 
Somehow, the mention of the desert and its secret 
hoard had stirred him strangely. It seemed to touch 
unknown springs in his being. He felt the call of the 
far-flung solitude, and his heart was glad that fortune 
had bound up his lot with that of the winsome woman 
who smiled on him so graciously when they parted in 
Hyde Park. 

Then a steward announced breakfast, and the 
mirage vanished. Captain Stump’s greeting showed 
that his slumbers had not been disturbed by golden 
visions. 

“Hornin’,” he said. “I’ve just bin tellin’ Tagg.” 
Seeing that his second officer was not enlightened by 
this remark he went on: 

“You’ll want his help if I’m not alongside. Bless 
your ’eart, you can depend on Tagg. He’ll never give 
you away. He thinks the world of you already.” 

71 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


The reminder was useful, though not in the sense 
intended by Stump. It brought Royson back to earth. 
He felt that he must justify himself if he would win his 
way among these rough sea-dogs. Hence, when a 
railway omnibus lumbered along the quay, and pulled 
up in front of the yacht’s gangway, he remembered 
that he was Mr. King, probationary second mate on a 
small vessel, and not Richard Royson, heir to a baro- 
netcy and rightful successor to an estate with a rent- 
roll of five thousand a year. 

Mr. Fenshawe, exceedingly alert for one of his age, 
helped two ladies to alight. The first was Irene. Her 
admiring glance at the AphroditCy no less than an 
exclamation of delighted interest, revealed that she, 
too, like everyone else, was a stranger to the ship. 
She was followed by a pretty woman, whose clothes 
and furs were of a fashion which told even a mere man 
that she was a person of consequence. This w^as Mrs. 
Haxton, and her first action caused Dick to dislike her, 
because she deliberately turned her back on the smart 
yacht, and gave heed only to the safe lowering of cer- 
tain trunks from the roof of the omnibus. He heard 
the manner of her speech to a neatly dressed maid 
and its languid insolence did not help to dissipate that 
unfavorable impression. 

Miss Fenshawe ran along the gangway. Royson 
had stationed a sailor at the shoreward end, while he 
held the rail to steady it on deck. 

“Good morning, Mr. King,” she cried. “Has not 
Baron von Kerber arrived ? ” 

72 



“Good morning, Mr. King,” she cried Page 72 







- tj 


‘ / 


► 


y • 


S ' 


•* f* 


M. 


W'Z , ' 


f f 

i* 

« 




• if* . - 

' VT.ir" ./; . '. 


% 

> . <1 


A^Vr 



< » 


' ,A, > 


. r 


t» . 


Vk' 


•.•*'■ .. - c‘ 
• ■ ■ . * « ' 

» s ■ 




7 • * T 


i55'. 


» • 


■» »' 


;*A£Hr 





« t 




-'■ - '?> 








Von Kerber Explains 

“Yes,” he said. “He came aboard late last night.” 

“ Then why is he not here to meet us ? ” 

“ I believe he is fatigued after the long journey, Miss 
Fenshawe.” 

“Fatigued! Fiddlesticks! Look at my grandfather. 
Is he fatigued ? And we have traveled over the same 
route. But I will deal with the lie-abed Baron when 
I see him. What a nice boat the Aphrodite is. I am 
in love with her already. And is that Captain Stump ? 
Good morning, captain. I have heard about you. 
Baron von Kerber says you will bite my head off if I 
come on the bridge. Is that true ? ” 

“Shows how little Mr. von Kerber reely knows 
about me, ma’am,” said Stump gallantly, beaming 
on her over the rail of the small upper deck. 

By this time, Mrs. Haxton had satisfied herself that 
the Aphrodite's crew might be trusted to bring her 
boxes on board without smashing them, and she 
gathered her skirts carefully to keep them clear of the 
quay. She raised a lorgnon, mounted on a tortoise- 
shell and silver handle, and examined the yacht with 
measured glance. She honored the stalwart second 
oflficer with a prolonged stare. 

“ Is that the captain ? ” she said to Mr. Fenshawe, 
who was waiting to escort her on board. 

“No. That is Mr. King, the young man Irene told 
you about.” 

“Oh, indeed! Rather an Apollo Belvidere, don’t 
you think .5^” 

“ He seems to be a nice young fellow, quite well- 
73 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

mannered, and that sort of thing. And it imposes 
somewhat of a strain on the imagination to picture 
him in the scant attire popular at Delphi.” 

Mr. Fenshawe was not without a dry humor, but 
Mrs. Haxton was pleased to be amused. 

“What a light-hearted creature you are!” she cried. 
“I envy you your high spirits. Personally, I feel 
utterly downcast at the prospect of a sea voyage. It 
always blows a mistral, or some other horrid thing, 
when I cross the Mediterranean. Are you sure that 
little bridge won’t move the instant I step on it? I 
have quite an aversion to such jim-crack appliances.” 

Mrs. Haxton ’s timidity did not prevent her from 
noting the arrival of a telegraph messenger on a bicycle. 
He was reading the name of the yacht when she 
said: 

“Come here, boy. Have you a telegram for me?” 

She used excellent French, and the messenger handed 
her the small blue envelope he was carrying. The 
lady dropped her eyeglasses, and scanned the address 
quickly before she read it aloud. 

“Richard Royson, British Yacht Aphrodite, Mar- 
seilles,” she announced, after a moment’s pause. 

“ Who is Richard Royson ? ” she went on, looking 
from Mr. Fenshawe to the nearest officer of the ship, 
who happened to be Royson himself. 

The incident was so unexpected that Dick reddened 
and hesitated. Yet he saw no reason why he should 
not proclaim himself. 

“That message is meant for me, madam,” he said. 

74 


Von Kerber Explains 

“For you? But Mr. Fenshawe has just said that 
your name is King ? ” 

“ Baron von Kerber bestowed that name on me, but 
he acted under a misapprehension. My name is 
Royson.” 

“ How odd ! How excessively odd ! ” 

Mrs. Haxton seemed to forget her fear of the gang- 
way. Advancing with sure and easy tread she gave 
Dick his telegram. And he was conscious, during one 
unhappy minute, that Irene, and Captain Stump, and 
Mr. Fenshawe, each in varying degree, shared Mrs. 
Haxton ’s opinion as to the exceeding oddity of the 
fact that any one should be masquerading on board the 
Aphrodite under an assumed name. 


75 


CHAPTER V 


MISS FENSHAWE SEEKS AN ALLY 

Royson was not in the least nonplussed by this 
recurrence of a dilemma for which he was not respon- 
sible. Von Kerber, of course, could have extricated 
him with a word, but von Kerber, for reasons of his 
own, remained invisible. So Dick threw his head back 
in a characteristic way which people soon learnt to 
associate with a stubborn resolve to see a crisis through 
to the end. He ignored Mrs. Haxton, and spoke to 
the captain. 

“ I am glad the question of my right name has been 
raised,” he said. “When Baron von Kerber comes on 
deck I shall ask him to settle the matter once and for 
all.” 

“Just so,” said Stump, “I would if I was you.” 

“The really important thing is the whereabouts of 
our cabins,” interrupted Mrs. Haxton ’s clear drawl. 

“ Take the ladies aft, — Mr. Royson, — an’ let ’em 
choose their quarters,” directed Stump curtly. 

Dick would have obeyed in silence had not Miss 
Fenshawe thought fit to help liim. She had found 
Mrs. Haxton ’s airs somewhat tiresome during the long 
journey from London, and she saw no reason why 
76 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

that lady should be so ready to bring a hornet’s nest 
about Royson’s ears. 

“We are not in such a desperate hurry to bestow 
our belongings that you cannot read your telegram,” 
she said to Dick. Then she favored Stump with a 
frank smile. “ I know you mean to start almost 
immediately, captain, and it is possible that Mr. Royson 
may wish to send an answer before we leave Marseilles. 
You won’t be angry if he waits one moment before he 
shows us to our staterooms ? ” 

“Not at all, miss,” said the skipper, “he’s at your 
service. I can do without him — easy.” 

Stump was angry with Dick, and did not hesitate 
to show it. A blunt man, of plain speech, he resented 
anything in the nature of double-dealing. Royson’s 
remarkable proficiency in most matters bearing on the 
navigation of a ship had amazed him in the first in- 
stance, and this juggling with names led him to suspect 
some deep-laid villainy with which the midnight attack 
on von Kerber was not wholly unconnected. 

But the person most taken aback by Irene’s self- 
assertion was Mrs. Haxton. A firm attitude on the 
girl’s part came as an unpleasing novelty. An impe- 
rious light leaped to her eyes, but she checked the words 
which might have changed a trivial incident into a 
sharp tussle for supremacy. 

“I am sorry,” she said quietly. “Telegrams are 
important things, sometimes. And the messenger is 
waiting, too.” 

Thus, under the fire of many eyes, Royson tore open 
77 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


the 'petit hleUf and read its typewritten contents. The 
words were brief, but sufficiently bewildering: 

“Better return to England forthwith. I undertake 
full responsibility for advice, and guarantee you against 
loss. Forbes.” 

“Forbes,” undoubtedly, was his uncle’s solicitor. 
But how was it possible that he should have discovered 
the name of the yacht and her port of departure ? And 
why did he, a methodical old lawyer, not only disobey 
his client’s strict injunctions that no help or assistance 
of any sort was to be given to a rebellious nephew, but 
ignore Dick’s own wishes, and address him as Royson, 
not as King? 

There were twenty questions which might be asked, 
but staring at the flimsy bit of paper, with its jerky 
lettering, would not answer any of them. And the 
issue called for instant decision. Already, in obedience 
to a signal from Stump, men were standing by the 
fixed capstans on the mole ready to cast off the yacht’s 
hawsers. Perhaps Sir Henry Royson was dying ? 
Even in that unlikely event, of what avail was a title 
with nothing a year ? Certainly, the solicitor’s cautious 
telegram might be construed into an offer of financial 
aid. That reading implied a more cheerful view than 
he had taken hitherto of his prospects with regard to 
the Cuddesham estate. Yet, the only way in which 
he could meet Mr. Forbes’s wishes was to spring ashore 
then and there, if such a proceeding were practicable, 
and abandon the adventure whose strange by-ways 
were already opening up before his mind’s eye. 

78 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

Then Irene said sympathetically: 

“ I hope you have not received any bad news, Mr. — 
Roy son.” 

The captain’s pause before addressing him by his 
real name was intended to be ironical. Not so the 
girl’s hesitancy. Interpreting Dick’s mood with her 
woman’s intuition, she felt that he wished to drop any 
subterfuge now, no matter what his motive might have 
been in adopting one hitherto. 

Her voice broke the spell which the telegram, with 
its curious phrasing, had cast on him. 

“No, Miss Fenshawe, not bad news, certainly. In- 
deed, it was the absence of any sort of news that 
troubled me for a moment. Chasseur I 

“ Oui, rri'sieuy* and the messenger raised his hat. 

^^Voila!” Dick threw him a franc, “7/ n’a pas 
de reponse.'* 

Merci hieriy m*sieu.'" 

That spinning of a coin through the air showed that 
Royson had made up his mind. He had tossed with 
Fortune, and cared not who won. 

The messenger drew away from the gangway, and 
entered into a conversation with the driver of the 
omnibus. Stump nodded to a man on the quay. The 
forward mooring rope was cleared, and fell into the 
water with a loud splash. Two sailors ran the gang- 
way on board. An electric bell jarred in the engine- 
room, and the screw revolved, while the rattle of the 
steering chains showed that the helm was put hard 
a-port. When the Aphrodite moved slowly astern, her 
79 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


bow swung towards the mouth of the dock. The 
indicator rang again, twice, and the yacht, after a 
pause, began to forge ahead. Another splash, and 
the second hawser was cast loose. The mole, the 
neighboring ships, the landward quays and the ware- 
houses thereon, seemed to diminish in size without any 
perceptible cause, and, in a space of time that might 
have been measured by seconds rather than minutes, 
the Aphrodite was throbbing southward. 

Mrs. Haxton, whose eagerness to inspect her 
stateroom had gone, was hailed pleasantly by 
Irene. 

“Now, because I asked you to wait, you shall have 
first choice,” she said. “Lead on, Mr. Royson. Let 
us see our dens.” 

But Baron von Kerber came running along the deck, 
all smiles and welcoming words, and it was evident 
that some reason other than physical unfitness had 
kept him out of sight until the yacht’s voyage was 
actually commenced. Dick heard him explaining 
coolly that he had met with a slight accident on arriving 
at Marseilles overnight. Some difficulty in dressing, 
he said, combined with the phenomenal punctuality of 
the train de luxe, accounted for his tardy appearance, 
but the ladies would find that the steward had 
everything in readiness, and Mr. Fenshawe was too 
experienced a voyageur not to make himself at home 
instantly. Rattling on thus agreeably, he led the 
way aft. 

In the midst of his explanations, he saw that Dick 
80 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

was accompanying the party, and told him, rather 
abruptly, that his services were not required. In no 
amiable mood, therefore, the second officer went to 
the upper deck, where the skipper was growling his 
views to Tagg about the mysterious incident of the 
telegram. It was a moment of tension, and something 
might have been said that would tend to place Royson 
and the captain at arm’s length if the Aphrodite had 
not taken it into her head to emulate Miss Fenshawe’s 
action by coming to Dick’s assistance. The little 
vessel remembered that which Stump paid small heed 
to, and asserted herself. 

Notwithstanding her half-deck saloon, with the tiny 
chart-house perched thereon, and the narrow bridge 
that gave her a steamer-like aspect, she was rigged as 
a topsail schooner, her sharp lines and consequent 
extra length affording full play to her fore-and-aft 
sails. Her first owner had designed her with set 
purpose. It was his hobby to remain in out-of-the- 
way parts of the world for years at a time, visiting 
savage lands where coal was not procurable, and he 
trusted more to sails than to engine-power. But 
Stump, and his chief officer, and nearly every sailor 
on board, being accustomed to steam, despised wind- 
jammers, and pinned their faith to the engines. 

With a favorable wind such as was blowing at the 
moment, or to steady the yacht in a cross sea, the 
captain would have set a foresail and jib. To help 
the propeller was good seamanship, but to bank the 
engine-room fires and depend wholly on sails was the 
81 


The Wheel o' FoHune 


last thing he would think of. Hence, the Aphrodite 
straightway taught him a sharp lesson. While Stump 
was ruminating on the exact form of some scathing 
remark for Royson’s benefit, a sudden stoppage of the 
screw, and an ominously easy roll over the crest of 
the next sea, showed that the engines were idle. 

Stump hurled a lurid question down the speaking- 
tube. The engineer’s equally emphatic reply told him 
that there was a breakdown, cause not stated. Now, 
the outer roadstead of Marseilles harbor is one of the 
most awkward places in the Mediterranean for a 
disabled vessel. Though the Gulf of Lions is almost 
tideless, it has strong and treacherous currents. The 
configuration of the rocky coast, guarded as it is by 
small islands and sunken reefs, does not allow much 
seaway until a lighthouse, some miles distant from the 
mainland, is passed. Stump, of course, would have 
made use of the ship’s sails before she drifted into 
peril. But he was purple with wrath, and the necessary 
commands were not familiar to his tongue. 

Therefore, he hesitated, though he was far from 
remaining silent, and Royson, never at a loss when 
rapidity of thought and action was demanded, took 
the lead. He woke up the crew with a string of orders, 
rushed from foremast to mainmast and back to the 
bows again to see that the men hauled the right ropes 
and set the sails in the right way, and had the Aphrodite 
bowling along under canvas in less than two minutes 
after the stopping of the screw. Not until every sheet 
was drawing and the yacht running free did it occur 
82 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

to him that he had dared to assume unto himself the 
captain’s prerogative. 

Rather red-faced and breathless, not only from his 
own exertions but by reason of the disconcerting notion 
which possessed him, he raced up the short companion- 
ladder leading from the fore deck to the bridge. Stump 
seemed to be awaiting him with a halter. 

“I hope I did right, sir, in jumping in like that,” 
gasped Dick. “I thought it best to get steering way 
on the yacht without delay, and — ” 

“Wot’s yer name now?” roared Stump, glowering 
at him in a manner which led Dick to believe he had 
committed an unpardonable offense. 

“ Still the same, sir — Royson.” 

“ I thought p’raps it might ha’ bin Smith, as you’re 
such a lightnin’ change artist. Just bung in to the 
engine-room, will you, an’ find out wot that son of a 
gun below there is a-doing of?” 

“ I will go if you like, sir, but I know nothing about 
engines.” 

“Take charge here, then. Keep her steady as she 
goes. You’ve a clear course half a mile to westward 
of that light.” 

Stump disappeared, and Royson found himself en- 
trusted with full charge of the vessel ere she had been 
ten minutes at sea. His gruff commander could have 
paid him no greater compliment. 

In the engineer, a man from West Hartlepool, the 
captain met one who spoke the vernacular. 

“ It’s no good a-dammin’ me because there’s a flaw 
83 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


in a connectin’ rod,” he protested, when Stump’s 
strenuous questioning allowed him to explain matters. 
“ I can’t see inside a piece of crimson steel any more’n 
you can.” 

“ None of your lip, my lad, or I’ll find flaws all over 
you, P. D. Q. Can you fix this mess at sea, or must 
we put back ? ” 

The engineer quailed under Stump’s bovine eye. 

“ It would be better to put back, sir. I may be able 
to manage, but it’s doubtful.” 

Stump went aft to consult von Kerber. So speedily 
had the yacht’s mishap been dealt with that no member 
of the saloon party was aware of it, though any sailor 
among them would have recognized instantly that the 
vessel was traveling under canvas. The Baron, when 
he heard what had taken place, was most emphatic in 
vetoing the suggestion that the Aphrodite should return 
to Marseilles, and Stump was ecjually determined not 
to sail through the Straits of Bonifacio in half a gale 
of wind. As a compromise, a course was shaped for 
Toulon, and that port was made during the afternoon. 
It was the wisest thing to do, under the circumstances. 
Toulon is the French naval base for the Mediterranean, 
and her marine chantiers not only repaired the engines 
in a few hours, but supplied a set of spare parts, a wise 
precaution in view of the yacht’s probable sojourn in 
a locality where castings would be unattainable. 

Thenceforth the voyage proceeded smoothly. Roy- 
son took the first opportunity of explaining to von 
Kerber how and why the mistake as to his name had 
84 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

arisen, and the Baron only smiled, in his superior way, 
having recovered his somewhat domineering manner 
from the hour that the French coast-line sank beneath 
the horizon. 

Stump soon ascertained that the Aphrodite made 
better weather and faster running as a schooner than 
as a steamship when the wind suited, and Royson’s 
position on board was rendered all the more secure 
thereby. For the rest, Dick lived the humdrum life 
of the ship. Naturally, he saw a good deal of the 
occupants of the saloon, but the acquaintance did not 
progress beyond formalities. The two ladies read, and 
walked, and played bridge with Mr. Fenshawe and the 
Baron. They took much interest in Stromboli and 
the picturesque passage through the Straits of Messina, 
and the red glare of Etna kept them on deck for hours. 
Then the yacht settled down for the run to Port Said, 
and arrived at that sunlit abode of rascality on the 
first of November. 

Here the stores and coal bunkers were replenished, 
but no member of the crew was allowed to land. 
Cablegrams, letters, and newspapers came in bundles 
for the cabin-folk. The only communication of any 
sort for officers or men was a letter addressed to Royson 
by name. Von Kerber constituted himself postman, 
and he brought the missive to Dick in person, but not 
until the Aphrodite had entered the canal after shipping 
her French pilot and search-light. 

He was annoyed, though he veiled his ill-humor 
under an affected carelessness. 


85 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“How came you to give Port Said as a port of call 
to one of your correspondents?” he asked. 

“I did not,” said Dick, whose surprise was genuine 
enough to disarm suspicion. 

“Then some one has made a very accurate guess, 
yes ? ” sneered the other. 

“ I expected no letter from any person under the sun, 
and I certainly told no one I was passing through 
Port Said, for the sufficient reason that I never even 
thought of the place until you informed me yourself, 
sir, that we were bound for the Red Sea.” 

“It is strange. Well, here is your letter. Perhaps, 
when you have read it, you may understand how the 
thing has happened. I wished our destination to re- 
main hidden from the general public, and you are the 
only man on board, except Mr. Fenshawe and myself, 
whose whereabouts are known in London.” 

Now it chanced that the postmark was illegible, 
and, furthermore, that von Kerber had already read 
the letter by adopting the ingenious plan of the Russian 
censor, who grips the interior sheet in an instrument 
resembling a long, narrow curling-tongs, and twists 
steadily until he is able to withdraw it uninjured. But 
Stiff legal note-paper is apt to bear signs of such treat- 
ment. Somewhat later in the day, Royson saw these 
things, and was perplexed. At the moment, he merely 
broke open the envelope. 

It was a brief communication from Mr. Forbes. 

“I telegraphed to you at Marseilles,” it said, “and 
have ascertained that my message was delivered to you. 

86 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

I regret your apparent decision not to fall in with my 
request. Sir Henry Royson is ill, almost dangerously 
so, and I have reason to believe that he wishes to make 
amends to you for his past attitude. I received your 
letter, wherein you stated that you were shipping on 
some vessel under the name of King, but I had little 
difficulty in tracing you to Mr. Fenshawe ’s yacht, and 
I do not feel justified in recognizing your unnecessary 
alias. Again, I advise you to return. I am sure that 
your employer, a most estimable man, will not place 
any diflficulties in your way. If you leave the Aphrodite 
at Port Said or Ismalia, and send me a cablegram, I 
will remit by cable funds sufficient for your needs.” 

Dick had deemed this disturbing problem dead and 
done with. He had not hesitated at Marseilles, nor 
was he less decided now. He held out the letter to 
von Kerber frankly, little thinking how close a scrutiny 
had been given to his face while he was learning its 
contents. 

“Read it,” he said, “and you will see for yourself 
that I am in no way responsible.” 

Von Kerber seemed to be taken aback by this display 
of confidence. 

“No, no,” he said loftily. “I do not wish it. I 
have your word. That is suflScient.” 

“May I send an answer.^” 

“Yes, from Suez.” 

And the incident might have ended there had it not 
been brought into sharp prominence that evening. 
Mr. Tagg took the first watch, from eight o’clock to 
87 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


midnight. Under ordinary conditions, Royson, who 
was free until four in the morning, would have gone 
to his cabin and slept soundly. But, like many another 
who passes through the great canal for the first time, 
he could not resist the fascination of the ship’s noiseless, 
almost stealthy, passage through the desert. 

After supper, while enjoying a pipe before turning in, 
he went forward and stood behind the powerful electric 
lamp fitted in the bows to illumine the narrow water- 
lane which joins East and West. The broad shaft of 
light lent a solemn beauty to the bleak wastes on either 
hand. In front, the canal’s silvery riband shimmered 
in magic life. Its nearer ripples formed a glittering 
corsage for the ship’s tapered stem, and merged into 
a witches’ way of blackness beyond. The red signal 
of a distant garCy or station, or the white gleam of an 
approaching vessel’s masthead light, shone from the 
void like low-pitched stars. Overhead the sky was of 
deepest blue, its stupendous arch studded with stars 
of extraordinary radiance, while low on the west could 
be seen the paler sheen of departing day. At times his 
wondering eyes fell on some Arab encampment on the 
neighboring bank, where shrouded figures sat round a 
fire, and ghostly camels in the background raised un- 
gainly heads and gazed at the ever-mysterious sight of 
the moving ship. 

The marvelous scene was at once intimate and re- 
mote. Its distinguishable features had the sense of 
nearness and actuality of some piece of splendid stage- 
craft, yet he seemed to be peering not at the rigid out- 
88 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

lines of time but rather into the vague, almost terrifying, 
depths of eternity. And it was a bewildering fact that 
this glimpse into the portals of the desert was no new 
thing to him. Though never before had his mortal 
eyes rested on the far-flung vista, he absorbed its sooth- 
ing glamour with all the zest of one who came back to 
a familiar horizon after long sojourn in pent streets 
and tree-shrouded valleys. 

Time and again he strove to shake off this eerie 
feeling, but it was not to be repelled. He fought against 
its dominance, and denounced its folly, yet his heart 
whispered that he was not mistaken, that the majestic 
silence conveyed some thrilling message which he could 
not understand. How long he stood there, and how 
utterly he had yielded to the strange prepossession of 
his dream, he scarce realized until he heard a soft 
voice close behind him. 

“Is that you, Mr. Royson?” it said, and he was 
called back from the unknown to find Miss Fenshawe 
standing near. 

“I beg your pardon,’’ he stammered. “I was — so 
taken up with this — to me — most entrancing ex- 
perience — ” 

“That you did not hear my fairy footsteps,” she 
broke in, with a quiet laugh. “ Do not apologize for 
that. I am wearing list slippers, so my ghostlike 
approach is easily accounted for. And I am really 
very greatly relieved at having found you at all. I was 
afraid you had left the ship without my knowledge.” 

“But how could that be possible. Miss Fenshawe?” 

89 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

he asked, startled out of his reverie by her peculiar 
phrase. 

“Please don’t speak so loudly,” she said, dropping 
her voice almost to a whisper. “I have been looking 
for you during the past half hour. I came here twice, 
but you were so wrapped up in shadow that I failed to 
see you, and I was becoming quite anxious, because one 
of the men assured me you were not in your cabin.” 

Dick caught a flurried note in her utterance, a strained 
desire to avoid the semblance of that anxiety which she 
had just admitted. It puzzled him quite as much as 
the curious sense of familiarity with his surroundings, 
a sense which the girl’s unexpected appearance had by 
no means dispelled. And he was oddly conscious of a 
breaking away of the social barrier of whose existence 
she, at least, must have been convinced. The mere 
whispering together in this lonely part of the ship might 
account for it, to some extent, so he braced himself for 
the effort to restore her self-control. 

“I came here to have a good look at the desert by 
night,” he said. “You may be sure. Miss Fenshawe, 
that I had little notion you were searching for me. It 
was by the merest accident that I was able to stow 
myself out of sight in this particular locality.” 

She laughed softly again, and her manner became 
perceptibly less constrained. 

“ A big man and a small ship — is that it ? ” she 
asked. “Tell me, Mr. Royson, why did that oflicer 
of the Guards call you ‘ King Dick ’ on the morning of 
the carriage accident?” 


90 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

Had the girl racked her brain for a day to frame a 
question intended to perplex Royson she could not have 
hit on one of more penetrating effect. He was astounded 
not because she had heard Paton’s exclamation, but by 
reason of the flood of light which her recollection of it 
at that moment poured on his own wandering thoughts. 

“ It is a most amazing thing that you should ask me 
that, Miss Fenshawe,” he cried. 

“Sh-s-s-h. I have always imagined you to be a man 
who would smile in the midst of earthquakes, yet here 
you are quite dazzled by a harmless bit of feminine 
curiosity. Don’t you wish me to know how you came 
by that nickname I suppose it is one ? ” 

“ There is no other in whom I would conflde so will- 
ingly,” he said. “Promise you will not laugh at me 
if I tell you more than you bargain for.” 

“ What ? Is there humor in the story ? ” 

“Let us see. I am hardly a fair judge. At present 
I am more than mystified. It is easy enough to explain 
why I was called ‘King Dick’ at school. That is a 
mere preface to my romance. One of the cherished 
traditions of my family is that we are lineal descendants 
of King Richard the First of England.” 

“ Good gracious ! ” 

“ The statement lends itself to disbelief, I admit — ” 

“Why do you think me disbelieving?” 

“Pray forgive me. Miss Fenshawe. I am in doubt- 
ing mood myself to-night. At any rate, the lineage of 
the Roysons has not been disputed during many cen- 
turies. Our name is part of our proof, and there has 
91 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


been a Richard Royson associated with Westmoreland 
ever since Cceur-de-Lion returned from Palestine. 
That is the kind of family asset a boy will brag of. 
Joined to a certain proficiency in games, it supplies a 
ready-made nickname. But the wonderful and wholly 
inexplicable thing is that while I have been standing 
here, watching our head-light dancing over the desert, 
the fantastic conceit has invaded my very soul that I 
share with my kingly ancestor his love of this land, his 
ambition to accomplish great deeds in its secret places, 
his contempt and scorn of all opposing influences. Do 
you remember how he defied a rain of blood which 
scared his courtiers ? One of his friends has placed on 
record the opinion that if an angel from heaven bade 
Richard abandon his work he would have answered 
with a curse. Well, I am poor, and of slight conse- 
quence in the world to-day, but at least it has been 
vouchsafed me to understand what a strong man and 
a king can feel when there are those who would thwart 
his will. At present, I am powerless, as little able to 
give effect to my energies as Richard himself when pent 
in an Austrian prison, but I do ask that some Blondel 
shall free me, no matter what the ransom, and that 
Fate shall set me a task worthy of the man who fought 
and dreamed and planned empires out there eight 
centuries ago.’’ 

Royson threw back his head, and stretched his right 
hand toward the desert where lay Jaffa and Jerusalem. 
He was quite carried away by the magic of the hour. 
He had brushed aside the cobwebs of society, and spoke 
92 


r.Fv 




dv 












*7 “• 

'•*'i-i9kd /; 


?: a ¥ 

■' 


’( '-^’V 


^Ufl 


ri"^ 




«i 


*1'- 


•3 


•a • 


• % 


i • 


» i< 






\ * 


l-> 


A* 








» ^ * 






U 










♦ 


i: •’ 


« »• r. 


1. 


'■. 'V 


'^v 






^ fs?* 


t-m 

L 4 J% • - 




A «?»f >■ 


j V 






:i\ .♦ A^i 




fcj •- 






ft' 


v; 


J V 


.<:i' 


Hi 






W 






. ^*7? 


y • 


ri> 




i » j; f 


J N 






> • 


?:-sv 


fif 


X ,j 


til 




■-i!— 










V . 


S'£i^-‘-IV.‘;'5j3^' ■ '. t-'-; 




n 


.»-A 


K' 


FT"* 


’V, 


I,* * 




li* 








" « 






1 


V* 

C U = «* ' 


i, fj 


• i 




« ^ V 


^ t 


f '? 






i'.: i 


V • •. 




^ »■ 




.%T.^ 


r/ 


). V 






i ’:7 


* ■ . ■ -^ 

> 


<?■ 


<> .XI 




:5i? 




tv 






• ✓ 


•^4** 


K . 




^ i»j* 


»v 


r ,5 -j 

‘j .V' . *-.^fc' ‘ . ■!— 1. «■“ 

•- 'V' 


V/’ 


'*. ■* V 




V *i 






'<-jr *' 




-J: 


Jbj 


• I X 


/V 


1.1 






>A 


m 











promise from me. Miss Fenshawe ” 

Page 93 


“You need no 


Miss Fenshawe Seeks an Ally 

to Irene as a gallant and fearless youth might address 
the maid at whose feet he hoped to lay the trophies 
gained in winning his knighthood. And she, as might 
be expected, responded to the passionate chord which 
sounded this challenge to fortune. She, too, forgot 
convention, for which Heaven be praised! 

“You have my prayers for your success,” she whis- 
pered. “What is more, I believe in you, and that is 
why I am here now, for I have come to ask you, for 
my sake and the sake of one whom I love, not to leave 
this ship until I bid you.” 

At any other moment such a request must have had 
a sinister sound. Coming then, it seemed to be a direct 
answer to Dick’s excited appeal to the unseen power 
that governs men’s lives. He turned and looked into 
her eyes. She was so near to him that he could see the 
wondrous light shining in their limpid depths. He 
felt the fragrance of her presence, the glow of her 
tender beauty, and she did not shrink from him when 
he placed a protecting hand on her shoulder. 

“You need no promise from me. Miss Fenshawe,” 
he said, with a labored utterance that was wholly 
unaccountable to him. “ Twice already have I refused 
to leave you, though I have been summoned to England 
to resume an inheritance wrongfully withheld. We 
are stubborn, we Richards, and we are loyal, too. It 
was you, I now believe, who snatched me from misery, 
almost from despair. Have no fear, therefore, that I 
shall desert you.” 

“You have taken a load from my heart,” she an- 
93 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


swered softly. “You are the only man on board in 
whom I have any real confidence. I fear that my 
grandfather has been misled, wilfully and shamefully 
misled, but I am unable to prevent it for lack of proof. 
But to-night, after dinner, I chanced to overhear a 
conversation with reference to you which redoubled 
the doubts I have felt ever since this expedition was 
decided on. I feel that I must tell you. Baron von 
Kerber distrusts you because you are a gentleman. 
He fears you will act as one if you have to choose 
between his interests and your own honor. And to- 
day, since your letter arrived — ” 

“Yes, ma’am,” they heard Captain Stump shout 
from the bridge, “ Miss Fenshawe is forrard, with Mr. 
Royson. You’ll find it a very pretty sight goin’ through 
the canal on a night like this.” 

And Mrs. Haxton, hunting the ship for Irene — not 
to speak of Royson and the girl herself when in calmer 
mood — may have wondered why Stump should trum- 
pet forth his information as though he wished all on 
board to hear it. Perhaps it was, as Dick already well 
knew, that the stout skipper had good eyesight as well 
as a kind heart. 


94 


CHAPTER VI 


AT THE PORTAL 

“Why in the world did you hide yourself in this part 
of the ship, Irene?” cried Mrs. Haxton, advancing 
with a rapidity that was in marked contrast to her usual 
languid movements. “ I have been searching for you 
everywhere.” 

“I have not hidden myself, and you must have 
missed a rather large section out of your everywhere,” 
said the girl, with a coolness that Royson found ad- 
mirable. 

“ But Mr. Fenshawe wants you. He has been vainly 
awaiting his partner at the bridge table during the 
past twenty minutes.” 

“I would never have believed grandfather could be 
so callous. Play cards here! Where every prospect 
pleases and only bridge is vile! Let me bring him 
forth at once. Good night, Mr. Royson ! Thank you 
so much for a nice talk. I think I shall be able now to 
pass an examination in the history and geography of 
the Suez Canal.” 

Dick lifted his cap, silently thanking Providence that 
women were more adroit than men. Mrs. Haxton 
seemed to take no notice of him. Indeed, she had 
95 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


scarcely spoken to him since they met at Marseilles, 
and, were he a vain man, such studied neglect on the 
part of a pretty woman might have supplied food for 
thought. Yet it is possible that Mrs. Haxton herself 
would confess to a certain chagrin if she realized how 
small a place she occupied in his mind as he followed 
her along the deck. Irene flitted in front, light-limbed 
and agile, humming gaily a verse of some song, but 
breaking off in the midst to ask Captain Stump not to 
be very angry if she brought a party of invaders to his 
tiny domain. She was young enough not to feel flut- 
tered by the knowledge that Mrs. Haxton had broken 
in on a somewhat dangerous interchange of confidences. 
She knew that she wanted a friend — some one less 
opinionative than Mr. Fenshawe — to whom she could 
appeal for help and guidance when difficulties arose. 
Royson was already a hero in her eyes, and what more 
natural than that she should turn to him, especially 
under the circumstances which had come to her knowl- 
edge that evening? As for Dick, he fancied that the 
Seuz Canal was one of the roads to Heaven. 

Before he climbed into his bunk, however, he re-read 
Mr. Forbes’s letter, and noticed then that it bore 
signs of interference, while von Kerber, if he had not 
opened it, must have jumped to the conclusion that it 
came from London solely because the stamp was an 
English one. Added to Irene’s veiled warning that all 
was not well on board, this apparent tampering with 
his correspondence bore an ugly look. It almost sug- 
gested that the Baron feared he was what the London 
96 


At the Portal 


inquiry agent had asked him to become — the paid 
spy of Alfieri. He wondered what hold the Italian 
had on the man. Now that he was able to examine 
recent events in perspective, he saw that von Kerber 
had traveled alone from London with the hope of 
throwing off his track any one who was watching him 
— and had failed. It was evident, too, that neither 
Mr. Fenshawe nor his granddaughter, nor Mrs. Haxton 
for that matter, took pains to keep their whereabouts 
unknown, because Dick had seen an announcement of 
the Aphrodite's cruise in a London newspaper brought 
on board by the pilot. Von Kerber’s name was not 
mentioned, but the others were described briefly, the 
reference to Mrs. Haxton being that she was “ a persona 
grata in Anglo-Egyptian society.” Why, then, did the 
Austrian demand such secrecy from the yacht’s crew, 
and be so perturbed by the advent of a letter addressed 
to one of them ? But Royson’s disposition was far too 
happy-go-lucky to permit of serious ponderings on 
other people’s business. He laughed and reddened a 
little when his mind swung round to the more pleasing 
memory of the girl’s frank sympathy, and he told him- 
self, with deep and convincing earnestness, that next 
time they met he must guard his unruly tongue, else it 
might run away with him again, and find her in less 
receptive mood. 

Then he fell asleep, and slept soundly, too, in blissful 
ignorance of a conversation then taking place in the 
chart-house, though it had the most direct bearing on 
his own future. 


97 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


For von Kerber had seized the opportunity, when 
Mr. Fenshawe and the two ladies went below, to draw 
Stump into private conclave. 

‘‘ We reach Suez to-morrow, captain,” he said, “ and 
that will be our last chance of getting rid of any of 
the crew whom you think unsuitable.” 

“That’s so,” agreed Stump, “but I can’t say Fve 
blacklisted any of ’em. The on’y fault I find with 
’em is that there’s too many hands for the work.” 

“Ah, you regard them as dependable, yes?'' 

“ Good for any game you like to put before ’em,” 
was the brisk summary. 

“That is what I want. But tell me, captain, will 
you be able to replace Mr. Royson? I believe he is 
useful when it comes to sailing the yacht, yet I have 
no doubt you can dispense with him ? ” 

Stump was shrewd in a limited way. He caught 
the drift of von Kerber’s comment, and it did not help 
to further the scheme which the latter had in mind. 

“Mr. Royson?” came the quick growl. “What of 
him? Next to Tagg, he’s the best man in the crowd.” 

“Possibly, but I have reason to believe that he 
wishes to return to England.” 

“He hasn’t said so.” 

“ Not to you, perhaps, but I know it is so, and I do 
not wish to detain him when our numbers are already 
ample for all purposes. I am awkwardly placed in 
the matter, as Mr. Fenshawe feels under a slight 
obligation to him, so I shall be glad if you will pay 
him off to-morrow, on a generous basis, of course, 
98 


At the Portal 

with every allowance for the expenses of the homeward 
passage.’’ 

“Wot.^^” said Stump, moving restlessly under von 
Kerber’s fixed gaze. ‘‘D’ye mean it, mister 

“ I do, most certainly.” 

“Then you’d better fix the business yourself. You 
engaged him, like the rest of us. I like the lad, and I’d 
take it ill to be axed to fire him. No, sir. That ain’t 
in my department this trip. It’d be a bird of another 
color if he was no good. But he’s a first-rater, an’ I, 
for one, will be sorry to lose him. If you don’t take 
my word for it, ax Tagg. He knows a man when he 
see him, does Tagg, an’ he hasn’t forgotten that upper 
cut Mr. Royson gev’ a land shark in Marseilles when 
the crowd set about you.” 

Stump was profoundly moved, or he would not have 
made such a long speech, and von Kerber knew that 
his flank attack had failed. Indeed, the gruff sailor 
had as good as charged him with rank ingratitude. 

“ Oh, if you think that way about it,” said he coolly, 
“we can let the project drop for the present. I was 
only considering Mr. Royson’s own interests. Whether 
he goes or stays, it does not concern me in the least. 
Have a cigarette ? Ah, you prefer a pipe, yes ? Well, 
good night, captain. We shall not be rocked to sleep 
by the wild waves to-night, I imagine.” 

Stump joined Tagg on the bridge. He jerked a 
thumb after the Baron’s retreating figure. 

“That German swab wants me to boot Royson,” 
he muttered. 


99 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“Boot Royson? The idee! Wot for?” 

“He piled it on thick about wot he called Royson’s 
own interests, but I knew better’n that. It don’t suit 
his book for our dandy second mate to be sparkin’ the 
owner’s granddaughter abaft the lantern. You take 
my tip, Tagg, that other woman, Mrs. Haxton, is as 
mean as sin, an’ she blew the gaff to-night when she 
dropped on ’em after supper.” 

“ I’ve always thought her a bit of a cat,” agreed Tagg. 

“An’ wot did you say?” 

“Say, I tole ’im to do his dirty work hisself. Mark 
my words, Tagg, he’ll not tackle the job for fear it 
comes to the gal’s ears. You watch him close up like 
an oyster.” 

Stump was a prophet worthy of honor, though Dick 
did not appreciate the Baron’s friendly solicitude about 
his affairs until long afterwards. But he did learn by 
chance how amply justified Irene was in her fear that 
he might be asked to leave the ship. The Aphrodite 
was spinning down the Gulf of Suez late next day, under 
all her snowy spread of sail, when Royson went aloft 
to assure himself that a stiff pulley on the fore yard 
was in good working order. He found that it needed a 
slight readjustment, and the alteration was trouble- 
some owing to the strain of a steady breeze. He per- 
severed, put matters right, and was climbing down to 
the deck when, through the foresail, he heard voices 
discussing none other than himself. 

Mrs. Haxton and von Kerber had strolled forward, 
and were leaning over the side of the ship, never dream- 
100 


At the Portal 


ing that the man they were talking of was within a few 
feet of them above their heads, though hidden by the 
sail. 

‘‘ I was exceedingly surprised to find that he was not 
sent ashore with the pilot at Suez,” the lady was saying. 
“No matter what his present position may be, he is 
a baronet’s nephew and prospective heir it would seem. 
It is sheer madness on your part to keep a man like 
him on board.” . 

“ But I tell you that I asked Stump to discharge him, 
and met with a blank refusal,” replied the Baron 
irritably. 

“That is even more amazing. Are not these men 
your servants ? ” 

“Yes, in a sense. Try to understand me, Maud. 
I had to select men of good character, or they might 
fail me in the hour of real need. If you hire pirates 
you must expect them to act like pirates, yes ? Stump 
favors Royson, so he pointed out that as I had engaged 
him I must dismiss him. And you know quite well, 
if you would only be reasonable, that any such action 
on my part could hardly fail to arouse some measure 
of doubt in Fenshawe’s mind, which is the very thing 
we wish to avoid.” 

“ I think you are wrong, nevertheless.” 

“ You should not say that if you are not prepared to 
tell me how I could arrange an awkward business 
better. And what are you afraid of? He is as keen 
as any of us for the adventure, and he will be well 
paid if it succeeds.” 


101 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“You are a poor conspirator, my dear Franz,” 
laughed Mrs. Haxton disagreeably. “If you were 
really the clever person you think yourself you would 
know that such a man may leaven the whole crew with 
his ideas of honor. And, when the pressure comes, he 
will have an excellent helper in that girl. She, too, 
should have been left at home. Oh, nonsense! Had 
you given me the ordering of affairs neither she nor 
this young down-at-heels aristocrat would be here to- 
day. I am not saying this merely to annoy you, as 
you seem to believe, but to warn you. Be on your 
guard, Franz. Things are going too smoothly. No 
great fortune was ever yet won without a hitch or two 
on the road, and we are not far from the Five Hills 
now.” 

They moved away. Dick went back to his pulley, 
surveyed the deck over the fore yard, and deferred his 
descent until “Franz” and “Maud” were at the 
other end of the vessel. Since they came on board 
they had been “ Baron von Kerber ” and “ Mrs. Haxton ” 
in the presence of others. What desperate game were 
they playing that demanded these small deceits — 
what hazard of fortune was it that gave rise to the 
woman’s Cassandra-like forebodings ? Von Kerber 
had been candid enough in the statement he put for- 
ward voluntarily at Marseilles. Any one could guess 
the uncertainties of a quest depending on a document 
two thousand years old, while its dangers were mani- 
fest. Mr. Fenshawe and Irene must be cognizant of 
the open risks, and it was idle to suppose that they did 
102 


At the Portal 


not appreciate the unobtrusive way in which the 
yacht was being hurried to her destination. Why, 
then, should von Kerber and Mrs. Haxton share some 
secret understanding, the outcome of which was 
doubtful, and, above all else, why should they fear the 
influence that a young and unknown man might 
exercise on the crew? 

“Egypt is the land of riddles,” mused Dick, as he 
gazed at the russet and purple hills which spring up so 
suddenly to guard the strange sea thrust by nature into 
the bosom of a flery land. “ My best course is to adopt 
the attitude of the Sphinx. I shall keep my eyes open 
and say nothing.” 

He forgot, however, that the chief characteristic of 
the Sphinx is an enduring patience, and he chafed at 
the colorless monotony of the next few days. The 
Aphrodite crept under sail flve hundred miles to the 
south, until the wind died of sheer exhaustion. Then 
the engines took their turn, and the yacht exchanged 
the steady roll of a topsail schooner for the quivering 
uneasiness of a steam-driven ship. But sail or steam, 
the pace was slow, and the passage of the Red Sea left 
its record on the smart little vesssel in the shape of 
blistered paint, gaping seams, and planks from which 
the sweated pitch was no sooner holy-stoned than it 
oozed forth again to smear their purity. Though stout 
awnings defied the direct fury of the sun they could 
not shut out its glare and furnace heat. And the 
human barometer showed the stress of life. Stump 
was a caldron in himself, Tagg a bewhiskered male- 
103 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


diction in damp linen. The tempers of the crew, 
stifling in crowded quarters, suggested that they were 
suffering from a plague of boils. As a mere pastime, 
there was an occasional fight in the forecastle. Un- 
happily for the disputants. Stump had a ready ear for 
these frays, and he would rush in to settle them with 
a vigor that left the pugilists prostrate. Then he would 
recover his caustic humor for half an hour, and regale 
Royson with yarns of things wot happened when the 
Red Sea was reelly hot. This weather was on’y 
warm. Why, once when he was aboard the Ocean 
Queen^ her bunker gev’ out six hours north o’ Perim, 
but he whipped the awnin’s off, an’ the sun kep’ up a 
head o’ steam in the boilers until she ran into port. 

The saloon party found existence more endurable. 
They had adjustable window-shades, and electric fans, 
and there was a sheltered deck over their heads. So 
they dozed away the hot hours placidly until the 
memorable day dawned when Stump, after much close 
scrutiny of charts, ventured to leave the safe channel 
down the center of the Red Sea and stand in towards 
the African coast. 

“ Massowah ! ” was on every tongue, and the general 
listlessness vanished. Soon a dim land-line appeared. 
It grew into a range of barren mountains, broken by 
narrow, precipice -guarded valleys. Then a thin strip 
of flat fore-shore became visible. It deepened into a 
flat island, barely two miles long, and assumed a 
habitable aspect. A lighthouse marked a fine harbor. 
A custom-house, a fort, several jetties, and a town of 
104 


At the Portal 


fairly tall buildings stood clear from a scattered gather- 
ing of coral-built Arab houses and hundreds of grass 
and mat huts. In a word, man had conquered the 
wilderness, and a busy community had sprung into 
being between the silent sea and the arid earth. 

While the Aphrodite was picking her way cautiously 
to the anchorage ground, Dick, who was on the bridge 
with the captain, heard some broken talk between Mr. 
Fenshawe and the Baron. The latter, with subdued 
energy, was urging some point which the older man 
refused to yield. The discussion was keen, and the 
millionaire betrayed a polite resentment of his com- 
panion’s views. 

“I am sure the Italian authorities will place no 
obstacle in our way,” he declared at last. “When all 
is said and done, the interest of our trip is mainly 
archeological. Why should you hold this absurd 
notion that we may be refused official sanction ? ” 

He spoke emphatically, with unveiled impatience. 
Dick could not make out the Austrian’s reply, but Mr. 
Fenshawe’s next words showed that, whatever the 
matter in dispute, he had a will of his own, and meant 
to exercise it. 

“It is useless to try to convince me on that head,” 
he exclaimed. “I would turn back this instant rather 
than act in the way you suggest. You must allow me 
to follow my original plan. We shall obtain a valid 
permit from the Governor. If, contrary to my expec- 
tation, he refers the final decision to the Italian Foreign 
Department, we shall await cabled instructions. Our 
105 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


ambassador at Rome can vouch for us. He is an old 
friend of mine, and I only regret that I did not obey 
my first impulse and write to him before I left London.” 

Von Kerber asserted that there was some danger of 
the Somali Arabs becoming excited if they heard of 
the expedition. Mr. Fenshawe laughed. 

“ Arabs ! ” he cried. “ How long has that bee buzzed 
in your bonnet. The only lawless tribes in this country 
are far away in the interior. And even they are apt 
to think many times before they offer active resistance 
to the passing of a strong and well-intentioned kafila. 
Besides, my dear fellow, we must purchase some por- 
tion of our equipment here. It is secrecy, not candor, 
that would endanger our mission. Believe me, you 
are suffering from Red Sea spleen. It distorts your 
normal vision. You certainly took a different view of 
the situation when we determined its main features in 
London.” 

Royson was careful not to look at the speakers. 
Between him and them was seated Mrs. Haxton, and 
he knew that she, too, was an attentive listener. Von 
Kerber began to explain the reasons which lay behind 
his change of opinion, but Stump’s voice suddenly 
recalled Dick to his duties. 

“Stand by the anchor, Mr. Royson,” he said, “and 
see that everything is clear when I tell you to let go.” 

Irene heard the order. 

“I want to watch the anchor flop overboard,” she 
announced, springing up from a deck chair. “ I 
think I shall accompany you, Mr. Royson.” 

106 


At the Portal 


Dick held out his hand to help her down the short 
companion way. They had not exchanged many words 
since that memorable night in the canal, and the pene- 
trating look in the girl’s eyes warned Royson now that 
she was about to say something not meant for others 
to hear. 

“ You have not forgotten ? ” she murmured. 

“No,” he answered. 

“When we go ashore you must come with us.” 

“ How can I make sure of that ? ” 

“Ask Captain Stump to send you in charge of the 
boat. Do you know that an attempt was made to get 
rid of you at Suez ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“It failed.” 

“Yes, I know that, too.” 

“Who told you?” 

“I overheard a conversation. I could not help it.” 

“Well, once we are ashore I may have a chance of 
explaining things fully. If necessary, tell Captain 
Stump I wish you to escort us.” 

They could say no more. The telegraph rang from 
“Slow” to “Stop her.” Two sailors were waiting in 
the bows, and had already cleared the anchor from its 
chocks. Irene leaned against the rail. She wore a 
pith hat, and was dressed in white muslin for shore- 
going, while a pink-lined parasol helped to dispel a 
pallor which was the natural result of an exhausting 
voyage. Dick thought he had never seen a woman 
with a face and figure to match hers, and it is to be 
107 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


feared that his mind wandered a little until he was 
roused by a bellow from the bridge. 

“Stand by, forrard. Let go-o-o!” 

Luckily, Dick’s office was a sinecure. The men 
knew what to do, and did it. With a roar and a rattle 
the chain cable rushed through the hawse-pipe, and 
the Aphrodite rested motionless on the green water 
of the roadstead. 

The yacht’s arrival created some stir on shore. 
Several boats put off, their swarthy crews contending 
strenuously which should have the valuable privilege 
of landing the expected passengers. Stump bustled 
down from the bridge with the important air of a man 
who had achieved something, and thus gave Royson 
an unforeseen opportunity of asking him about the 
boat. The skipper swung himself back to the upper 
deck, and approached Mr. Fenshawe. 

“ Are you goin’ ashore at once, sir ? ” he inquired. 

“Yes, the sooner the better, or the Government 
Offices will be closed for the day.” 

“Mr. Royson,” shouted Stump, “pipe the crew of 
the jolly-boat, an’ lower away.” 

“An Arab boat will be much speedier and more 
roomy,” broke in Mrs. Haxton, quick to observe that 
von Kerber was not paying heed to the captain’s 
preparations. 

“You can land in one of those weird-looking craft 
if you like,” said Irene, “but I am sure Mr. Fenshawe 
and I would prefer our own state barge. It is much 
more dignified, too, and I really think we ought to 
108 


At the Portal 

impress the natives. Don’t you agree with me, Baron 
von Kerber ? ” 

There was nothing more to be said. The boat was 
lowered so smartly that Dick was seated at the tiller, 
and four ash blades were driving her rapidly shoreward, 
before the leading crew of panting Somalis reached 
the ship’s side. They secured two passengers, how- 
ever. Mrs. Haxton, who had declined a seat in the 
jolly-boat on the score of the intense heat, changed her 
mind, and the captain elected to go with her. 

“I want to cable my missus,” he announced, “an’ 
Massowah is likely to be our last port for some time. 
If she don’t hear from me once a month, she frets. 
That’s where Tagg has the pull. He’s an orfin.” 

Mrs. Haxton smiled delightedly. She was watching 
the distant jolly-boat, ^nd something seemed to please 
her. 

“Your second mate has not visited Massowah be- 
fore ? ” she said. 

“No, ma’am.” 

“We shall be ashore first, after all. He is heading 
for the Government jetee, where a sentry will warn 
him off.” 

“ Oh, you know the ropes here, then ? ” said Stump. 
“ Not many English ladies have coasted in these 
waters.” 

Mrs. Haxton thought, perhaps, that she had aired 
her knowledge unnecessarily, but she explained that 
when her husband was alive she had accompanied him 
during a long cruise in the Red Sea. 

109 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“He was interested in cable construction,” she said, 
“and we visited Massowah when it was first taken in 
hand by the Italians.” 

“ Excuse me, ma’am, but have you bin long a widdy ? ” 

“ Nearly five years.” 

“By gad,” said Stump admiringly, “you must ha’ 
bin a small slip of a gal when you was married!” 

She laughed, with the quiet assurance of a beautiful 
and well-dressed woman. Mrs. Haxton could be 
charming when she chose, and she wanted Stump to 
act exactly in accord with her own plans when they 
reached the town. By this time the two boats were 
nearly level, but separated by a hundred yards or more. 
The captain had half risen to hail Dick when Mrs. 
Haxton stopped him. 

“Let them go on,” she cried. “They would not 
take my advice. Now they will find that we have 
beaten them by a good five minutes.” 

Stump knew quite well, of course, that a broad- 
beamed English boat could not compete with the long, 
slim Somali craft, but he was aware also that Miss 
Fenshawe and Royson wished to land in company. 
So he grinned, and sat down again. 

The outcome of these cross purposes was curious 
in many ways. As Mrs. Haxton foresaw, the jolly- 
boat was forbidden to land at the main wharf, and 
Royson discovered that the Austrian did not under- 
stand Italian. It was Irene who translated the orders 
shouted at them by a brigandish-looking soldier, and 
they had to pull off in the direction of a smaller pier 

no 


At the Portal 


where Mrs. Haxton and Captain Stump had already 
disembarked in the midst of a crowd of jabbering 
natives. 

“Now, captain,’’ said Mrs. Haxton, with her sweetest 
smile, pointing to a white building in the distance, 
“that is the telegraph-office. We need not both 
remain here until our friends arrive. Suppose you go 
and send your cablegram in peace. By the time you 
have written it we shall be close behind you. Pray 
don’t wait on my account. You see I want to crow 
over Miss Fenshawe.” 

“Just as you like, ma’am,” said Stump, lifting his 
cap awkwardly. He went at the noisy mob like a 
battering-ram. “Sheer off, you black-an’-tan mon- 
grels!” he roared at them. “Go an’ ax some one to 
play on you with a hose-pipe. Jow, you soors! D’ye 
think the lady likes to be pisened ^ ” 

He cleared a space, and rolled away towards the town. 
Hence, he did not notice a gaunt Arab, whose flowing 
burnous and distinguished air singled him out from 
the mixed gathering of nondescripts at the landing- 
place, who bided his time until Mrs. Haxton looked 
in his direction. Then he salaamed, with a courtly 
blend of deference and hauteur, and she beckoned him 
instantly. 

“You are Sheikh Abdullah?” she asked in French. 

“Yes, madam,” he replied, in the same language. 

“You know the town well?” 

“I have been waiting here two months.” 

“Then two more hours will not weary you. Von 
111 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Kerber Effendi, or I, or both of us, will meet you out- 
side the Elephant Mosque at five o’clock. Neverthe- 
less, should there be others with us, do not speak unless 
we address you.” 

“Who is he, the red ox?” demanded the Arab, 
gazing after the broad figure of Captain Stump. 

“He is the captain of our ship, a man of no im- 
portance. The Hakim Effendi is in the approaching 
boat. With him is Fenshawe Effendi, the old, gray- 
haired man. There is a tall young ship’s officer there, 
too. His name is Royson — you will not forget ? — 
Royson. He is dangerous. Regard him well. He 
might prove troublesome, or useful — I hardly know 
which at present. Fenshawe Effendi speaks French 
and Arabic, Royson Effendi French only. That is all, 
for the present. Leave me now.” 

“Adieu, madame. A cinq heures!” 

Drawing back into the mob of natives, who were 
pressing nearer in their eagerness to offer themselves 
for hire to the Europeans in the boat, Abdullah shaded 
his swarthy face under a fold of his burnous. Royson 
leaped ashore in order to assist Irene to land. She, 
with school-girl glee at emancipation from the narrow 
decks of the Aphrodite y sprang on to the low pier at the 
same instant, and laughed at his surprise at finding 
her standing by his side. They both extended a hand 
to Mr. Fenshawe, who refused their aid, saying that 
the first breath of dry air had made him feel as young 
as ever. 

“There is no tonic like it,” he said. “Look at Mrs. 

112 


At the Portal 


Haxton if you want a proof. She was a lily in London 
— now she is a rose.’’ 

Excitement, or the prospect of success, had certainly 
given the lady’s complexion a fine tint. Her dainty 
profile offered a striking contrast to the motley crew of 
negroid Arabs who surrounded her. And she came 
to meet them in a buoyant spirit, though the fierce 
sun was scorching her delicate skin through the thin 
fabric of her dress. 

“ I ought to have made a wager with you, Mr. 
Royson,” she cried, pronouncing his name very dis- 
tinctly. “ Our English-built craft cannot hold its own 
against the Somali, you see.” 

Knowing nothing of the difference of opinion on 
board the yacht, Dick could not fathom this sudden 
graciousness on her part. Before he could answer, 
von Kerber’s highly-pitched voice broke in. 

“ Why did Captain Stump come ashore with you ? ” 
he asked. 

“To send Mrs. Stump a cablegram, I believe,” 
replied Mrs. Haxton carelessly. 

“He ought to have asked my permission first.” 

The petulant words drew a protest from Mr. Fen- 
shawe. 

“My dear Baron,” he said, “why should not the 
poor man make known his safe arrival to his wife? 
You are not yourself to-day. What is it — liver ? or 
anxiety ? ” 

“I have no special reason for anxiety,” cried von 
Kerber, almost hysterically. Royson came to his 
113 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


relief by asking for orders about the boat, but the 
Austrian was so unnerved, for no visible reason, that 
he hesitated, and Irene answered for him. 

“We have arranged to dine on shore, at the Hotel 
Grande del Universo,” she said. “ Mr. Fenshawe wishes 
Captain Stump and you to join us, so the boat may go 
back to the yacht and come for us at eight o’clock. 
When you meet Captain Stump, please tell him.” 

“Excellent!” agreed her grandfather, who now 
heard of the “arrangement” for the first time. 
“Really, Irene, you put things so admirably that I 
hardly recognize my own crude thoughts. Well, as 
that is settled, let us go straight to the Governor’s 
house. One of these black gentlemen will pilot us.” 

While Fenshawe was airing his Arabic in selecting 
a guide from fifty volunteers. Pick gave instructions 
to the boat’s crew. Mrs. Haxton, seeing that Irene 
was all eyes for her new and strange surroundings, 
read von Kerber a much-needed lecture. 

“For goodness’ sake gather your wits,” she mur- 
mured. “You will arouse general suspicion by your 
foolish precautions. Now listen. Before five o’clock 
let us all gather at the hotel for tea. Slip away on 
some pretext, and go instantly to the Elephant Mosque. 
It is in the main street, three hundred yards to the left 
of the hotel. I shall join you there if possible, but, in 
any event, you’ll meet Abdullah. And, whatever you 
do, stop this nonsense about proceeding in secret. 
Ah, yes, Irene, your grandfather has his hands full. 
But he knows how to manage natives. You will see 
114 



i'rSV.v' Swfc-'-' iP- 









Page 115 


At the Portal 

him in his element when we come to collect a 
kafila.'' 

So, smiling and soft-tongued, Mrs. Haxton turned 
in response to some delighted exclamation from the 
girl. They made their way inland in the wake of a 
swaggering negro, and, as Royson passed with the 
others, Abdullah, the Arab, appraised him with critical 
eye. 

“ By the Holy Kaaba,’’ said he, there goes a man ! 
I have seen few like him, even at Khartoum, where 
the giaours swarmed in thousands. But he is young, 
and his flesh is soft. The desert will thin his blood. 
And that little bull, who went before — he, too, should 
feel the sap dry in his bones. Tomb of my father! 
if the Hakim Effendi has brought such men as these in 
his train, there will be deeds done at the foot of the 
Five Hills, and I, Abdullah the Spear-thrower, shall be 
there to witness them.” 


115 


CHAPTER VII 


MRS. HAXTON RECEIVES A SHOCK 

Mr. Fenshawe, renewing his acquaintance with 
Arabic gutturals, and von Kerber, walking apart with 
Mrs. Haxton, in order to learn how and when she had 
received tidings of Abdullah, had eyes or ears for 
naught else. Irene and Dick were thus given a few 
moments free from listeners, and the girl was quick 
enough to grasp the chance. 

“You know why we have come here?” she asked in 
a low tone, halting to look back at the belt of tiny 
islets which secludes Massdwah’s larger island from 
the open sea. 

“ Baron von Kerber told us at Marseilles,” said Dick, 
wondering what new development had chased from 
the girl’s face the smiling interest of a moment 
ago. 

“‘Us’?” she demanded, almost sharply. 

“ I should have said Captain Stump, Mr. Tagg, and 
myself.” 

“ What did he tell you ? ” 

“The remarkable history of a Roman expedition 
against the Sabseans, of a storm, a shipwreck, the 
burial of a vast treasure, and the ultimate discovery of 
116 


Mrs, Haxton receives a Shock 

its hiding-place by means of a Greek papyrus found 
in a tomb.” 

“That is what irritates me,” said she, in a sudden 
gust of anger. “His behavior is fautless, yet I am 
certain that he is acting in an underhanded way. I 
have ventured to say as much to my grandfather, but I 
cannot obtain a shred of actual fact to justify my 
suspicions. Indeed Baron von Kerber is candor 
itself where the genuineness of the papyrus is con- 
cerned. Did he endeavor to explain Mrs. Haxton’s 
presence, or mine?” 

“ When Captain Stump protested — before he had 
seen you, remember — against ladies accompanying 
us, the Baron said that without you the expedition 
could not proceed.” 

“ Exactly. That is another bit of unconvincing accu- 
racy. Mrs. Haxton has always been an essential part 
of the scheme. I am here solely because I did not 
think Mr. Fenshawe should be allowed to go alone — 
alone in the sense that these people were strangers to 
him, while he was spending many thousands of pounds 
for their very great benefit. There, again, I find 
myseK in a sort of verbal cul de sac. Under other 
circumstances I should be delighted to take part in an 
adventure of this kind. Grandad promised me two 
years ago that we should pass the present winter in 
Upper Egypt. Unhappily, Mrs. Haxton introduced 
von Kerber to him at a place in the Highlands where 
we were invited for the shooting. The instant he heard 
of the legend on that wretched scrap of paper all his 
117 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


old enthusiasm for exploration work revived, and he 
has followed their plans blindly ever since.” 

“ I hope you will forgive me if I express a somewhat 
contrary opinion, Miss Fenshawe,” said Royson. 
“ Your grandfather did not hesitate to run counter to 
the Baron’s wishes to-day, for instance.” 

‘‘Oh, that is nothing. Of course, with his expe- 
rience of Egypt, he takes the lead in such matters. 
What I want you to believe is this: Mrs. Haxton, 
and not von Kerber, found that papyrus, or it came 
into her hands by some means. She is the originator 
of the scheme. She sought to be included in our 
friend’s party at Glengarloch with the set object of 
meeting grandad, whose interest in archeology is 
known to all the world. She did not come across von 
Kerber by accident, but produced him at the right 
moment. He is not a casual friend, met in Cairo, as 
she pretends, but a man whom she has known for 
years. And, last in a list of guessings which I know 
to be true, they both fear some discovery, or interrup- 
tion, or danger not revealed to us, which may prevent 
them from obtaining the wealth they hope to gain. 
They are desperately poor, IMr. Royson. They have 
mortgaged their credit to its utmost extent to enable 
them to keep up appearances, and they dread some 
catastrophe which will interfere with our search, 
though the only authority we have for the existence of 
the Roman legion’s loot is a scrap of scarcely decipher- 
able writing, which, though genuine enough, may be 
nothing better than a madman’s dream.” 

118 


Mrs. Haxton receives a Shock 


“ Have you told Mr. Fenshawe these things ? ” asked 
Dick. His pledged word to von Kerber interposed an 
awkward barrier against that complete confidence 
which he would gladly have given to one who had so 
curiously amplified his own doubts. 

“Yes, everything, but he only laughs, and bids me 
remember that I am not yet twenty. He says that there 
are stranger things buried beneath the dust of Egypt 
than all the learned societies have succeeded in reveal- 
ing. He is quite content that the cruise of the Aphrodite 
should be a wild-goose chase so long as the evidence of 
the papyrus is proved to be false. And that is my 
chief stumbling-block. Perhaps you do not realize 
that, to an antiquarian, the search yields as keen 
pleasure as the find. The cost of this expedition is a 
matter of no consequence to my grandfather, and I 
repeat that, under other conditions, I should regard it 
as a most enjoyable and memorable excursion. But 
these two people have made me nervous, and that is 
why I was determined they should not get rid of you 
at Suez, because I felt that I could trust you with my 
doubts and fears, and look to you for help should an 
emergency arise. Otherwise, Mr. Fenshawe and I 
would be at their mercy.” 

“You can count on me to the end,” said Royson 
earnestly, “ but I would ask you not to forget that the 
officers and crew are all Englishmen, and, from what 
1 have seen of them, they would never lend themselves 
to any undertaking which meant actual treachery to 
their employers.” 


119 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“That, of course, is excellent so far as it goes,” 
was the tart response, “but I am also aware that our 
enterprising Baron has very adroitly bound all of you 
to secrecy, and exacted a promise of faithfulness to his 
interests. The result is that not even you, Mr. Royson, 
told me anything about the attack made on him at 
Marseilles — ” 

This counter-stroke was unexpected, and Royson 
glanced at her with some degree of embarrassment. 

“ He persuaded us that if the incident came to your 
knowledge it might alarm you needlessly,” he broke in, 
“and that sounded quite reasonable.” 

“ Exactly. You are beginning to appreciate the pit- 
falls which awaited me when I tried to convince my 
grandfather that he should not credit every statement 
made to him. Baron von Kerber is the most plausible 
of men. He never tells a downright untruth. Indeed, 
he speaks the absolute truth, but only a part of it. 
Fortunately, my maid heard of your prowess in routing 
the Baron’s assailants. You at once became a hero 
among the sailors, which, by the way, was only fit and 
proper if you are destined to fill the role played by 
your distinguished ancestor.” 

A quiet little smile chased the shadows from her 
face, and Dick flushed as he recalled the wild words of 
that wonderful night in the canal. 

“ Tagg must have been talking,” he managed to say. 
“Please tell me what you have heard. Miss Fenshawe.” 

“Nothing beyond the fact that our Austrian friend 
was set upon by some highway robbers while driving 
120 


Mrs, Haxton receives a Shock 


from the station to the ship at a late hour, and that 
you and Mr. Tagg happened to be near, with disastrous 
results to the Marseillais. Does your bond permit you 
to carry the story further ? What did really happen ? ” 

“There was a rather one-sided fight, because Tagg 
and I took them by surprise, but the Baron escaped 
uninjured, or nearly so.” 

“ Did they rob him, then ? ” 

“I meant that he sustained a couple of slight cuts, 
and therein you have another valid reason for his 
anxiety that the affair should not reach your ears.” 

Though her own manner was imperious enough, 
Irene was manifestly surprised at the annoyance ap- 
parent in Dick’s voice. She did not realize that he 
was wroth because of the check imposed by the promise 
exacted in London. If he told her of the theft of the 
papyrus, and explained the few details he possessed 
with regard to von Kerber’s declared enemy, he would 
only add fuel to the distrust already planted in her 
heart. That would achieve no tangible good, while 
no casuistry would wipe away the stain on his own 
honor. So here was he, burning with desire to assure 
her of his devotion, forced into silent pact with the 
very conspiracy she was denouncing. 

She attributed his sudden gruffness to a distaste for 
hearing his exploits lauded. 

“At any rate, you now understand my motive for 
speaking so plainly, Mr. Royson,” she went on. “You 
may feel bound by your arrangement with the Baron, 
and I have no fault to find on that score, but I am 
121 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


quite certain, since I have learnt who you are, that you 
will not lend yourself to any discreditable plan which 
may be in the minds of the remarkable pair who are 
now looking at us, and wondering, no doubt, what we 
are discussing so earnestly.” 

Royson saw that von Kerber and Mrs. Haxton were 
awaiting them at the door of the post-office, but the 
personal allusion to himself, which Miss Fenshawe 
had dropped, in parenthesis as it were, into her con- 
cluding sentence, demanded a question. 

“Will you enlighten me on the interesting point of 
my identity, then?” he asked rapidly. 

“Oh yes. I take it that your Port Said letter was 
opened and read. Mrs. Haxton is skilled at jumping 
to conclusions, I fancy. She said she recognized your 
name at Marseilles — when the telegram arrived, you 
know — but, if that were so, it is strange that she 
should keep the knowledge to herself until all of us 
were at dinner after leaving Port Said. I also can 
add two and two occasionally, and I have not the 
slightest doubt that something in your letter gave her 
the necessary clue. Was she mistaken ? ” 

“In what?” 

“ In the belief that you are the nephew of a baronet, 
and his heir?” 

He laughed pleasantly. After years of indifference, 
his birthright was pursuing him with a certain zest. 

“You could not have chosen a better example of 
those half-truths you complain of,” said he. “ I admit 
that my uncle is Sir Henry Royson, but his heir he 
122 


Mrs, Haxton receives a Shock 


vowed I should not be when last we met. Yet the 
letter you speak of was from his solicitor, and it held 
out a vague suggestion of possibilities which, to put it 
mildly, would make Mrs. Haxton a remarkably good 
guesser.” 

A silence fell upon them as they neared the others. 
Irene disdained to use any subterfuge, and Royson was 
far too perplexed to branch off into a new conversation 
meant for the general ear. Mrs. Haxton and the 
Austrian also broke off their talk. They were about 
to enter the post-oflfice when Mr. Fenshawe came 
out. 

“Here you are,’’ he cried. “Lots of letters and 
newspapers. Take them, Irene, and sort them e it 
The Baron and I must hurry to the Governor’s house. 
We can read our correspondence at the hotel.” 

Von Kerber had evidently profited by his stroll 
with Mrs. Haxton. He raised no objection, but went 
off at once with ^he older man. Irene managed to 
open the bulky, string-tied package entrusted to her. 
She gave Mrs. Haxton several letters, and added to 
Royson’s already bewildered state by handing him 
three, two being directed to him in his right name 
and the third bearing the superscription “ Richard 
King, Esq.” 

He knew that Miss Fenshawe had noticed the alias, 
and took it as a kindly act that she passed no remark 
on it. He was equally well aware that Mrs. Haxton 
was alive to the fact that there were letters for him. 
Stump, who made his appearance at the moment, 

ns 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


added a whiff of awkwardness when he saw the en- 
velopes in Dick’s hands. 

“Hello!” he growled, “you’ve bin pretty spry. 
Letters, eh ? How did you work it ? ” 

“ I am not able to tell you,” was the frank answer. 
“ Evidently some one in I^ondon discovered the yacht’s 
route long before I knew it myself.” 

“That’s funny,” said Stump, with a hint of doubt 
in the exclamation. 

“It is probably a simple enough matter if it were 
cleared up,” said Irene off-handedly. “The Aphro- 
dite^s ports of call are quite open to the knowledge of 
any person who takes the trouble to inquire at Mr. 
Fenshawe’s residence. Mr. Royson will find, no doubt, 
that his friends followed that course when he failed to 
let them know whither the vessel was bound. But it 
is too hot to stand here in the sun. Let us go to the 
hotel and look through our budget in comfort.” 

When opportunity served, Dick glanced at his unex- 
pected mail. The two letters for “ Royson ” were from 
Forbes. They bore different dates. The first stated 
that Sir Henry Royson was seriously ill, and had given 
urgent instructions that his nephew was to be brought 
to his bedside. “ I have reason to believe,” wrote the 
lawyer, “that your uncle has sustained some shock, 
perhaps arising from the sudden receipt of intelligence 
hitherto withheld from him, and I would fail in my 
duty if I did not urge you to cast aside all other consid- 
erations and return to England at once.” 

The second letter was even more explicit. “The 
124 


Mrs, Haxton receives a Shock 

person from whom I have received information of your 
whereabouts/’ said Mr. Forbes, “has called on me 
to-day, and the facts he has laid before me demand 
your earnest consideration. He is assured that the 
treasure-hunting expedition you have joined is a com- 
pound of piracy and rascality, in which Mr. Fenshawe 
is a dupe, having been misled by a man who has 
incurred the gravest suspicion of felony. The Italian 
Government is taking steps to procure this person’s 
arrest, and, whether or not the charges brought against 
him be substantiated, it is an assured thing that the 
movements of the Aphrodite will be watched, with 
a view towards the armed prevention of any landing 
from her in Italian territory. You must know that I 
have the strongest grounds for this statement, or I 
would not dare place my opinion in writing. If you 
think it will serve any useful purpose, I authorize you 
to show this letter to Mr. Fenshawe, only stipulating 
that I am giving him a friendly warning (which will 
soon be verified by events) and that my name must 
not be used in any investigation he may choose to 
make. It may help you to arrive at a right decision if 
I tell you that I have traced you with the help of Lieu- 
tenant the Hon. John S. Paton, of the Coldstream 
Guards, who saw an advertisement I inserted in the 
Times, and gave me the date of a carriage accident in 
Buckingham Palace Road, in which you seem to have 
displayed the courage and resource that might be 
looked for in one of your family. Inquiry showed that 
the carriage was Mr. Fenshawe ’s, and one of my clerks, 
125 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


after visiting Mr. Fenshawe’s house, was accosted by 
a man who was able to prove that he had accurate 
knowledge of your movements. I am told that he is 
writing Mr. Fenshawe fully by this mail, so, in any 
event, I feel confident of your early departure from 
Massowah, believing, as I do, that Mr. Fenshawe will 
not continue to lend his name to an undertaking of bad 
repute.” 

The third letter, that addressed to “King,” was 
from a Mr. William Fielding, “Confidential Inquiry 
Agent,” who revealed himself as Mr. Forbes’s inform- 
ant. He wrote in similar strain to the solicitor, and 
added: “I have directed the envelope to you in the 
name under which you shipped on board the Aphrodite, 
though I am aware that a telegram sent to you at 
Marseilles in your proper name reached you. If you 
will kindly seek a private interview with Mr. Fenshawe, 
and tell him how a man named Alfieri, with others, 
attacked Baron von Kerber at Marseilles, and robbed 
and wounded him without any subsequent protest on 
his part, you will help in undoing a great wrong.” 

Royson was sitting in the balcony veranda on the 
first floor of the Hotel Grande del Universe when his 
astonished eyes skimmed rapidly through these letters. 
Scarce crediting his senses, he read them again, word 
by word, striving to extract from their cr3rptic sentences 
that hidden meaning which lay beneath. Outspoken 
as the solicitor was, he had evidently left unsaid the 
major portion of the strange story within his ken. 
The new correspondent, too, might or might not be 
126 


Mrs. Haxton receives a Shock 


the man whom Dick had seen in Hyde Park and at 
Charing Cross Station. But the same curious guarded- 
ness was apparent in each missive. The lawyer dealt 
in generalities ; the private detective merely asked for the 
corroboration of a single detail in the statement which, 
doubtless, awaited Mr. Fenshawe’s perusal among the 
letters now piled on a table by the side of Miss Fen- 
shawe’s chair. 

At the thought, Dick turned and looked at Irene. 
She was smiling at some quip or bit of lively news in a 
closely-written sheet. Near her, Mrs. Haxton was en- 
gaged more deeply. The letter clasped in her long 
slender fingers was as obviously a business document 
as Irene’s was the crossed and interlined product of a 
feminine pen overflowing with gossip. Stump was 
leaning on the railing of the veranda, contemptuously 
heedless of the efforts of half a dozen vendors of carpets, 
ostrich feathers, fruit, sweets, and Abyssinian curios, 
who had gathered in the street beneath and were en- 
deavoring vociferously to secure his patronage for their 
wares. So Dick had leisure to think out a line of 
action, and he saw no reason to dispute the soundness of 
the advice given him by Mr. Forbes. If the owner 
of the Aphrodite were unknowingly lending himself to 
an illegal quest, it was the duty of an honest man to 
warn him. The agreement with von Kerber stood in 
the way perhaps. In that case, it must be terminated. 
Such a resolve was rather bitter to the taste, but it was 
unavoidable. To travel home by the next mail steamer 
from Aden would be a tame ending to an adventure 
127 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


that promised so well in its initial stages. And what 
of his vow not to desert the girl who had placed her 
faith in him ? Well, he would best serve her by opening 
Mr. Fenshawe’s eyes to the character of his associates, 
for Dick had no manner of doubt that Mrs. Haxton 
was the leading spirit in the plot of which the millionaire 
was the “dupe,” according to the lawyer. 

But Royson had found adversity a hard task-master. 
He had learnt early the lesson that a man who takes a 
leap in the dark should at least jump from firm ground, 
and when he asked himself what was the definite charge 
he would prefer against von Kerber his logic was 
brought to an abrupt halt. In plain English, he de- 
pended on a few words in the solicitor’s letter, and 
these, in their turn, were probably inspired by the 
one-sided statements of the Austrian’s avowed enemy, 
Alfieri. This consideration brought him back to the 
starting-point in his review of a puzzling situation. 
Fielding, whoever he might be, had done the right 
thing in placing his case before Mr. Fenshawe by letter. 
It would serve to clear the ground, and give scope for 
the interference of one who really had no cause of 
complaint against von Kerber. 

“Anyhow,” reflected Royson, smiling at the queer 
manner in which many opposing interests helped to 
entangle him in a mesh of difiiculties, “I need not 
rush my fences. Let Fenshawe read his letter, and, 
above all else, let me seek counsel from his grand- 
daughter. Then, by happy chance, I may hit on the 
right line.” 


128 


Mrs, Haxton receives a Shock 

When a young man does not want to deprive himself 
of the company of a nice young woman, he may be 
depended on to argue himself into a state of mind 
which does not demand such a sacrifice. 

At that instant Irene rose and told Captain Stump 
that she agreed with him — a scrutiny of the chattering 
mob in the street was more to her taste than a descrip- 
tion of the frocks worn at the last court ball. Dick 
pocketed his letters, and would have joined them had 
he not noticed that Mrs. Haxton was bending forward 
in her chair and examining the mixed pile of corre- 
spondence on the table. There was no grave signifi- 
cance in the action, because a number of magazines 
and newspapers were mixed with the heap, and these 
were more or less common property. But Royson, 
knowing of the existence of one document of exceeding 
importance, acted on the principle that if opportunity 
makes the thief Mrs. Haxton’s reputation should re- 
main unsullied that day if it lay in his power. He lit a 
cigar, wheeled his chair slightly, and sat facing her, at 
a distance of ten or twelve feet. The open railing of 
the veranda was half as far away on his right and on 
Mrs. Haxton ’s left. Through the narrow rails they 
both could see the opposite pavement, with its dun- 
colored throng of natives and the gloomy interiors of 
several small shops, while the white walls and close- 
latticed windows of the upper stories seemed to be 
bleaching visibly in the slanting rays of a fierce after- 
noon sun. 

Mrs. Haxton, apparently giving no heed to Royson, 
129 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


glanced listlessly at the wrappers and postmarks. The 
task seemed to prove uninteresting. Soon she selected 
a periodical, and was about to open it when a remark 
from Irene caught her ear. 

“That Italian standing in front of the grain-dealer’s 
place seems to be rooted to the ground with astonish- 
ment at seeing strangers in the hotel,” said the girl, 
turning her smiling face towards her companion. 

“Them Dagos is impident pups at times, miss,” 
replied Stump, his red eyes no doubt meeting the man’s 
stare with a fixity that might have disconcerted most 
gapers. 

“ Does he know you, do you think ? I happened to 
see him coming along the street, and as soon as he saw 
us he stood stock-still. He has been gazing up here 
now for the past two or three minutes.” 

“I’ve booted a rare lot of I-talians in my time,” said 
Stump. “ I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he was some 
loafer I’d helped across a ship’s gangway at Genoa or 
Naples.” 

“But, captain,” laughed Irene, “that man appears 
to be a superior class.” 

“Bless yer heart, miss, that’s nothin’. By the cut of 
his jib I’d rate him as a fiddler, an’ I remember once, 
at Brindisi, I was pointed out two counts an’ a markee 
among the coal-heavers.” 

Naturally enough, Mrs. Haxton and Dick looked for 
the person whose singular behavior was under discus- 
sion. Though they had no difficulty in finding him, 
it was impossible that they themselves could be seen 
130 


Mrs, Haxton receives a Shock 


with any degree of clearness. The railing and the 
deep shade of the veranda shielded them effectually. 
The Italian, a man of middle height, with a finely- 
molded face and soldierly aspect, a man whose bearing 
went far to prove that Stump’s general estimate of a 
great nation was apt to be wrong, was certainly very 
much taken up with the appearance of the two figures 
leaning over the balcony. But Royson had scarce time 
to note his main characteristics when he heard Mrs. 
Haxton utter a queer gasping sob. It seemed to him 
that she had only just succeeded in smothering a 
scream. Her cheeks suddenly became ashen gray, and 
her tightly compressed lips were bloodless. All her 
beauty fled, as the tints of a rose die under certain 
varieties of chemical light. Her eyes dilated in an 
alarming way, and lines not visible previously now 
puckered the comers of her mouth. 

Owing to the Babel of tongues in the street, neither 
Irene nor Captain Stump knew how terribly the mere 
sight of the staring Italian had affected Mrs. Haxton. 
It came to Royson with a flash of inspiration that 
this man must be Alfieri, that the woman had recog- 
nized him, and that she feared him with a mortal 
dread. 

He sprang upright and went to her. 

“ What is it ? ” he asked, neither raising nor lowering 
his voice sufficiently to attract attention. “Are you 
ill? Shall I call Miss Fenshawe?” 

She lifted an appealing hand, and tremblingly es- 
sayed to drop her veil. Her languid insolence had 
131 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


vanished with her good looks. For the moment, she 
was a broken and despairing woman. 

“No, no,” she murmured, and the anguish in her 
voice would have aroused sympathy in a nature far 
less impressionable than Royson’s. “ If you could help 
me, and all of us, try and find Baron von Kerber, and 
tell him — tell him — I sent you with the message that 
there is one here whom he must not meet. Oh, what 
shall I say to make him understand ? ” 

“ May I tell him that Alfieri is in Massowah ? ” 

Dick almost regretted the words when he witnessed 
their tremendous effect. She was on the very brink of 
hysteria, and the suddenness of her collapse was 
painful. 

“ You — you, too, know Alfieri ” she gasped, looking 
at him in a very agony of terror. 

“I am sorry if I have added to your alarm. I did 
not mean to do that. Alfieri is unknown to me, but 
I heard his name at Marseilles, when he attacked the 
Baron.” 

The pity he could not withhold seemed to give her 
new strength. 

“ An attack ! ” she whispered. “ At Marseilles ! Oh, 
why was I not told? But you will find him, at the 
Governor’s house ! It is not far — on the seaward 
point. . . . The hotel people will supply a guide. . . . 
Baron von Kerber and Alfieri must not meet here. If 
they do meet, we shall lose everything. . . . Tell the 
Baron to go on board the yacht, no matter what Mr. 
Fenshawe says. Do you understand ? It is a matter 
132 


Mrs, Haxton receives a Shock 

of life and death. Slip out into a back street, so that 
Alfieri may not see you. ... I will watch from here. 
Go, for Heaven’s sake. Let nothing delay you.” 

She was incapable of further explanation. Dick 
feared she would faint if he waited another second. 

Hence, when Irene turned to say that Mr. Fenshawe 
and the Baron appeared to be paying a prolonged visit 
to the Governor, she found that Mrs. Haxton was 
sitting alone, with her veiled face propped on her hands, 
while, so malicious was fate’s decree once more to 
Royson, that he was then hastening through malodorous 
lanes and crowded slums in order to save from threat- 
ened peril the very man whose downfall offered the 
only visible means by which he could bend his own 
frail fortunes in the direction that looked best to him. 


133 


CHAPTER VIII 


MASSOWAH ASSERTS ITSELF 

Royson knew not one word of Arabic. His Italian 
was of a rudimentary type, based on some acquaintance 
with Latin, eked out by a few phrases gleaned from 
books of travel. The polite hotel manager’s French was 
only a shade more fluent. Consequently, the latter 
told Mulai Hamed, deputy assistant hall-porter, that the 
Effendi wished to be conducted to Government House 
with the utmost secrecy, thus twisting Dick’s simple 
request that the guide should avoid the main streets 
into a mysterious demand which an Eastern mind could 
not fail to embroider with intrigue. 

For Mulai Hamed was a negroid Arab, whose ruf- 
fianly aspect was rather enhanced by the swaggering 
way he carried a broad shoulder-belt and brass badge 
of ofiice. He interpreted his orders literally, being 
eager to display a certain skill in conducting to an 
artistic finish any enterprise that savored of guile. As 
soon as the two quitted the hotel, Royson saw that he 
was traversing by-paths seldom visited by Europeans. 
He passed through evil-smelling alleys so shut in by 
lofty houses that the sun hardly ever penetrated their 
depths. He caught glimpses of dun interiors when 
134 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

forced aside by a panier-laden mule or lumbering 
camel, and the knowledge was thrust upon him in 
many ways that his presence in this minor artery of 
the bazaar was resented by its inhabitants. 

The few females he met were swathed from head to 
foot in cotton garments that had once been white. 
Dark eyes glanced curiously at him over the yashmak, 
or veil, which covered nose, cheeks, and mouth from 
the gaze of strangers. Orange-tinted nails and finger- 
tips, visible occasionally when the loose fold of a robe 
was snatched from the contamination of touching him, 
suggested the talons of a bird of prey rather than the 
slender well-shaped hand for which the Arab woman 
is noteworthy. Every man, almost without exception, 
scowled at him. Naked children, playing in the gutter, 
ran off, half frightened, yet stopped to shriek words 
which he was quite sure were not kindly greetings. 
Prowling dogs, the scavengers of the native quarter, 
shared the general hostility, and scurried out of his 
path, but sullenly, and with bared teeth. Through 
occasional sunlit vistas he peeped into main streets in 
which loitered numbers of Italian soldiers and civilians. 
Even a few carriages appeared, conveying ladies to the 
shops or public gardens, now that the intense heat of 
the sun had subsided. Therefore he found it scarcely 
credible that in the fetid slums there should be such 
covert hatred of the white race which held undisputed 
sway in thoroughfares distant not a stone’s throw. 
And, in puzzling contrast to the evidences of eye and 
ear, he was conscious of an uncanny sense of familiarity 
135 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


with his surroundings. Before the Aphrodite brought 
him south by east he had never been nearer Egypt than 
Paris. Yet the sights, the sounds, the nauseating smell 
of this dank bazaar, appealed to him with the breathless 
realism that the jingle of hansoms, the steady crunch 
of omnibuses, the yelling of newsboys and the tar-laden 
scent of the wood-paved road might convey when next 
he entered the Strand. 

This entirely novel and disquieting conceit recalled 
his strange obsession when first he looked out over the 
desert at night from the bows of the yacht, and the 
memory brought with it the legend of his house — 
that the Roysons were descendants of Coeur-de-Lion. 
He saw now that which he had never realized from the 
glowing pages of written romance, that the Crusaders 
must have mixed with people nearly identical in manner 
and speech with the strange human miscellany of Mas- 
sowah. During those medieval campaigns in an arid 
and poverty-stricken land, feudal pomp and regal 
glitter would yield perforce to the demands of existence. 
Richard of England and Philip of France, with many 
another noble warrior of high repute, had doubtless 
been glad enough, times without number, to seek the 
shelter and meager fare of just such a jumble of dark- 
ened tenements as that through which his guide was 
leading him. 

But why should he, Richard Royson, acknowledge 
an occult acquaintance with this unknown scene ? And 
what was the fascination which the squalid life of the 
bazaar had exercised occasionally on men of exalted 
136 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

rank at different periods of the world’s history? The 
mere notion that he might succumb to it — that he 
should even feel its glamour by the operation of some 
subtle trait of heredity - — was so grotesque that he 
laughed aloud. 

He happened to be crossing a tiny square at the 
moment, and a bearded moullah was entering a mosque 
which filled one whole side of it. The unbeliever’s 
mirth doubtless disturbed a pious meditation, and the 
moullah turned and muttered something. The words 
might be a verse of the Koran, but they had the ring 
of a malediction. 

Mulai Hamed was abashed and angry. He spoke 
apologetically to the holy man, alluded to the “ giaour ” 
more than once, and proceeded to give Dick a voluble 
lecture, enlightening him, most probably, as to the 
exceeding importance of politeness where a Mahom- 
edan priest was concerned. 

Royson was unable to explain that his hilarity 
was not intended as a slight on the follower of the 
Prophet. Yet dignity demanded he should not re- 
main dumb, so he pointed ahead, and vociferated, with 
a fairly accurate assumption of his skipper’s voice and 
manner: 

“ Lead on, you swab, and keep silent, or I’ll alter the 
shape of your face.” 

It suflSced, nor was he wholly mistaken in his rough- 
and-ready philosophy, for it is thus that the West 
dominates the East. The incident had the further 
effect of arousing Royson to actualities. He dis- 
137 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


missed his day-dream, and bent his wits to considera- 
tion of the queer message which Mrs. Haxton had asked 
him to deliver. Would the Austrian obey her, he 
wondered A man’s point of view and a woman’s 
differ materially when the graver crises of life have to 
be faced. If it were merely a question of physical 
courage, Dick imagined that the Baron would refuse 
to play the coward’s part by skulking on board the 
yacht. In that event, von Kerber and Alfieri could 
hardly fail to meet within the hour, for Massowah 
was a small place. Nor was it altogether probable 
that bloodshed would be the outcome. The affray at 
Marseilles had given the Italian an excellent oppor- 
tunity for settling old scores in that fashion if he were 
so minded. At any rate, the position was rife with 
dramatic possibilities, and each that presented itself 
to Dick’s judgment seemed to favor his own projects, 
which now demanded a speedy return to England. 
Yet he hoped to arrange his departure in such wise 
that Irene Fenshawe might not have it in her heart that 
he had deserted her. 

Dick did not admit, even to himself, that he had any 
well-defined motive, other than the fulfilment of a 
promise, for wishing to stand well in the girl’s esteem. 

“I may be a potential baronet,” he communed, 
“but I am not such a fool as to fall in love with the 
heiress of a man like Fenshawe. A baronet, indeed! 
Hardly a month ago I was tramping the streets of Lon- 
don looking for work. One does not, under those con- 
ditions, include in the list of prospective occupations 
138 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

marriage with a young lady worth a million or 
two.” 

It was surprising how bitter this very sensible re- 
flection could be. It disturbed his placid temper. 
He felt like railing at fate for ill-usage. Fortunately, 
Mulai Hamed had no further cause to chide the Effendi 
on account of his seeming irreverence, or Dick’s copy- 
ing of Stump’s methods might not have been confined 
to speech. 

But it was a remarkable fact, worthy of high 
relief in the fresco of weird and startling events then 
vaguely grouping themselves, that Royson first dreamed 
of love, even as a fantastic idyll where Irene Fenshawe 
was concerned, while he was hurrying through the 
native quarter of Massowah on a mission destined to 
change the whole course of his life. 

For the hour was at hand when he would be tried 
by tests that few men might endure. Treading close 
on the heels of his guide, he emerged from a cramped 
arch into a spacious parade-ground. A regiment of 
hersaglieri was assembling for drill during the com- 
paratively cool interval before sunset, and, on the sea- 
ward side of the plain, a squat fort pointed its guns at 
town and harbor. 

Mulai Hamed hastened towards the nearest gate. 
He did not enter, but his gestures showed that the 
Governor’s residence stood inside the fortifications. 
Royson went on alone, and was stopped by a sentry, 
who called a corporal; the latter conducted him to a 
lieutenant, and thenceforth Dick’s progress was sim- 
139 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


plified, because the officer not only spoke English but 
was ready to display his erudition, though not exactly 
in the manner desired by his questioner. ^ i 

When Royson said he wanted to communicate with 
two gentlemen who had called on the Governor some 
two hours earlier, the Italian smiled darkly. 

“They landed from the English yacht out there?” 
he asked, with a hand-flourish that indicated the Red 
Sea generally and the A'phrodite in particular. 

“Yes.” 

“And you are one of the ship’s officers?” 

“Yes,” said Dick again. 

“Well, I have no orders. I advise you to go on 
board, and await his Excellency’s decision.” 

“It will be most gratifying to learn his Excellency’s 
decision,” said Royson, “but just at this moment I 
must ascertain the whereabouts of Mr. Fenshawe and 
Baron von Kerber.” 

The lieutenant spread both hands deprecatingly. 

“ What is one to say ? ” he shrugged, arching his eye- 
brows and pursing his lips. “I repeat, I have no 
orders.” 

“But you have seen them?” 

“ Oh, yes. They are here.” 

“Then will you oblige me by sending in my name 
to Baron von Kerber, and saying — ” 

“It is impossible. Go to your ship. I speak as a 
friend.” 

“I am sure you wish to help me,” persisted Dick, 
“ but I am carrying a message of some importance — ” 
140 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

“Ah, from whom?” 

“From a lady.” 

“Who is she?” 

“One of the ladies of our party.” 

“ Ahif crudo Amor! You have ladies on board, 
then ? ” 

“Yes, Mr. Fenshawe’s granddaughter, and — a 
friend of hers.” 

Something in the Italian’s manner warned Royson 
that he was treading on unsafe ground. It occurred to 
him that if Mrs. Haxton had good reason for her dis- 
play of fear at the sight of Alfieri it was advisable 
not to spread the tidings of her presence in Massowah 
by revealing it to an inquisitive official. And the 
warning given in one of the letters in his pocket sud- 
denly assumed a sinister significance. He strove 
against any outward exhibition of concern, and the 
lieutenant was manifestly anxious to help him. 

“I am sorry,” was the unsatisfying statement. “I 
can do nothing without his Excellency’s instructions, 
and he has gone out for a drive.” 

“Gone out for a drive!” repeated Royson, quite 
taken aback by this rather bewildering explanation. 
“Am I to understand that my friends are kept 
here—” 

“You are to understand nothing but what I have 
told you, and you will remember that I have contented 
myself with advising you to return to your yacht.” 

It was evident that no good end could be achieved 
by striving to saddle the courteous officer with any 
141 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


responsibility for his admissions. Dick took the cue 
thus offered, and tried another line. 

“ Will you kindly tell me at what hour the Governor 
returns ? ” he asked. 

“Certainly. He will be here in twenty minutes.” 

“ May I wait until he arrives ? ” 

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.” 

The lieutenant clapped his hands, and an orderly 
appeared. 

“Some wine, ice, and cigarettes,” he commanded. 
He engaged Dick instantly in conversation as to the 
prospects of war in South Africa, and was ob\dously 
desirous not to discuss personal matters. He was a 
decent fellow, and an enthusiastic admirer of the 
British soldier, of whom he had seen a good deal dur- 
ing a visit to Aden, so the talk did not flag till the 
clatter of hoofs through the vaulted gateway announced 
the advent of a carriage. 

The Governor, a fat, unhealthy-looking man, whose 
seamed brow and puffy eyelids suggested that nego- 
tiations with King Menelek did not constitute the 
highest form of diplomatic happiness, was pleased to 
be explicit when Dick was introduced to him, and he 
found that the Englishman spoke French. 

“ After consultation with the Government advo- 
cate,” he said, “ I have decided to release Mr. Fenshawe, 
whose arrest was due to his persistent defense of Baron 
Franz von Kerber’s undertaking. The latter must 
remain in custody, and I warn you, and intend to give 
the same warning to all persons on board your vessel, 
142 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

that a gunboat is patrolling the coast with the most 
positive instructions to sink the A'phrodite if any attempt 
be made to land on Italian territory, elsewhere than at 
a recognized port.’’ 

His Excellency had cultivated the habit of plain 
speaking, which is an essential part of all dealings with 
Abyssinians. Royson did not attempt to answer him. 
He asked if Mr. Fenshawe would be set at liberty 
forthwith, and was assured that the Governor’s own 
carriage would convey both Mr. Fenshawe and him- 
self to the hotel within a few minutes. The big little 
man then vanished, and Dick soon had the satisfaction 
of seeing Irene’s grandfather escorted to the inner 
courtyard by a file of soldiers. 

It was a singular meeting between the two. Though 
the yacht-owner was white with anger, he was mani- 
festly pleased at finding Royson there. 

“Ah,” he said, extending his hand, “I am glad to 
see you. Does Miss Fenshawe know of this out- 
rage ? ” 

“No, sir. I think not. Indeed, I am almost posi- 
tive she has not heard of it.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

“ Mrs. Haxton sent me with a message to Baron von 
Kerber.” 

“ Mrs. Haxton probably guessed what would happen. 
Some scoundrel named Alfieri, who has tried more 
than once to steal my poor friend’s secret, has gained 
the ear of the Italian foreign minister. Trumped-up 
allegations have led to cabled orders for von Kerber’s 
143 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


arrest, and these wretched organ-grinders in uniform 
would have lodged every one of us in prison if they 
dared. Unhappily, the Baron is an Austrian subject, 
and there will be considerable delay before I can secure 
his freeedom. We must make for Aden at once. I 
will not trust the cable from Massowah. By Jove, 
I have been a supporter of peace all my life, Mr. Roy- 
son, but it is a lucky thing for this thieves’ den that I 
have not an armed ship now at my disposal, or I would 
blow their fort out of its foundations.” 

The older man little knew how this outburst affected 
Royson. The reference to Alfieri was absolutely 
staggering. No up-to-date battleship could have de- 
molished the Massowah fortress so effectually as Mr. 
Fenshawe’s outspoken wrath crumbled the edifice 
of doubt built by circumstances in Royson ’s mind. 

“Things have taken an extraordinary turn, sir,” 
said he, feeling it incumbent on him to say something. 

“They will turn an Italian Governor out of his 
position before I have done with them,”, was the deter- 
mined answer. “ Come, Mr. Royson, let us leave 
this man-trap. I came here in good faith, and I quit 
the place with the resolution that never again shall I 
entrust myself to the vagaries of any Jack-in-office 
who thinks he can browbeat a man of my repute like 
one of the wretched natives whom he misrules.” 

Royson had some difficulty in persuading his irate 
employer to enter the Governor’s carriage. Mr. 
Fenshawe only yielded to the plea that it was a stiff 
walk to the hotel, and his granddaughter would be 
144 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

consumed with anxiety if any alarming news had 
reached her meanwhile. 

The coachman took them by an open road facing 
the harbor. The sight of the Aphrodite lying at 
anchor, trimly elegant in white paint and neatly-furled 
sails, and sporting the ensign of a famous yacht club, 
led Dick to ask if his companion knew that an Italian 
gunboat was on the lookout for her. 

‘‘Oh, yes. His Excellency spared me no details,” 
said Mr. Fenshawe, smiling sarcastically. “If I were 
a few years younger, and we had no women on board, 
I would not allow any threats of that sort to hinder me, 
and I am much mistaken in my officers and men if 
they refused to back me up. But, as it is, we can do 
nothing. That is what galls me, my complete help- 
lessness.” 

“We have no heavy guns, I admit,” said Dick, 
casting to the winds all thought of leaving the ship 
under present conditions, “but we have arms and 
ammunition in plenty to make it hot work for any one 
in Massowah to stop us once we are ashore.” 

The other sighed, whether on account of his vanished 
youth or the impracticable nature of the scheme, it is 
hard to say. 

“ Our weapons are meant only for defense,” he said. 
“Von Kerber wished to guard against Arab hostility 
— that is all. But I do not despair of obtaining re- 
dress from Rome. Surely it cannot be known there 
that I am the leader of this expedition. It is so wildly 
absurd to treat me as a filibuster. Why, Mr. Royson, 
145 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


the Italian Archeological Society elected me an honor- 
ary vice-president ten years ago.” 

Dick had his own views as to the extent of the 
Aphrodite^ s armament, but the present was no time to 
air them. Moreover, he was beginning to see features 
of the affair that were hard to reconcile with Mr. Fen- 
shawe’s statements. In the first instance, the Gover- 
nor had acted on specific instructions, and the Roman 
authorities must have been well aware of the identity 
of the yacht’s owner. Again, the person really aimed 
at in these high-handed proceedings was von Kerber. 
The Governor made no secret of the fact that the 
millionaire was detained solely because he declared 
himself a principal in the Austrian’s enterprise, and it 
was no small token of official regret at an unpleasant 
incident that they were now driving to the hotel in His 
Excellency’s private carriage. Finally, none but a 
man angry and humiliated would deny the right of 
Italy to forbid the passage through her colonial terri- 
tory of a foreign force such as von Kerber had provided, 
a force equipped to an extent and in a manner that Mr. 
Fenshawe, in all likelihood, had slight knowledge of. 

So Dick listened in silence to his companion’s vows 
of diplomatic vengeance. He was resolved to talk 
matters over with Miss Fenshawe before he said a 
word about Alfieri or the news he had received from 
London. In fact, he had little doubt that a night’s 
reflection would render her grandfather amenable to 
reason. If there were charges against von Kerber, 
let them be brought to light. If they were true, the 
146 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

Italian Foreign Office was justified in its action: if 
false, there would be such a hubbub that the resultant 
apologies would certainly be accompanied by the offer 
of every assistance to the objects of the expedition. 

When they drew near the hotel, Royson saw Irene 
watching the main street anxiously from the balcony. 
It was rather remarkable that she should be alone, 
but all other thoughts were swept aside by the sight of 
the joy which lit her face when the carriage stopped 
at the portico and she learned that her grandfather 
had arrived from an opposite direction. 

They heard her glad cry of surprise, and she hastened 
to meet them. 

“ Good gracious, grandad,” she said, “ where have 
you been.^ I have waited here for you ever so long, 
wondering what had become of you.” 

“The Governor was such an affable person that he 
refused to let me go,” said Mr. Fenshawe grimly. 
“He has detained the Baron altogether. But let us 
go up -stairs. I am pining for that long-deferred tea. 
Where is Mrs. Haxton ? ” 

“She is ill, I am afraid. She found the heat and 
noise too much for her. Half an hour ago she asked 
Captain Stump to take her to the yacht. Of course I 
told her I didn’t mind being left here until some one 
came. But the funny part of it is that, although I was 
looking from the veranda, I failed to see either her 
or the captain leave the hotel.” 

By this time they were free from inquisitive eyes or 
ears, and Mr. Fenshawe proceeded to amaze the girl 
147 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


with a full recital of his disagreeable adventure. Roy- 
son noticed that she gave no heed whatever to his share 
in it. Her attitude was tinged with a slight disdain, 
and he began to feel miserably depressed until it 
occurred to him that she probably resented his depar- 
ture on Mrs. Haxton’s errand without letting her know. 
That was consoling, to an extent. He was sure she 
would forgive him when he had an opportunity of 
telling her exactly what had happened. 

They were so engrossed in their conclave that a 
servant entered with lamps before they realized that 
daylight had waned and night was falling with the 
rapidity of the tropics. Mr. Fenshawe leaped up 
from his chair with an alertness that belied his years. 

“I must break my resolution and send at least one 
cablegram from Massowah,” he cried. “It will be 
harmless enough to escape mutilation, as it is to my 
London office directing that all correspondence must 
be addressed to Aden in future. You will take it for 
me, Royson, and pay the cost?” 

Dick went off as soon as the message was ready. 
Irene avoided him ostentatiously while her grandfather 
was writing, and thereby laid herself open to the un- 
just suspicion that she was flirting with him. In 
very truth, she was torn with misgiving, and Royson’s 
share in her thoughts was even less than he imagined. 
Her quick brain divined that the arrest of von Kerber 
had only strengthened the Austrian’s claim on Mr. 
Fenshawe’s sympathies. Like all generous-souled men, 
her grandfather ran to extremes, and she felt that it 
148 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

was hopeless now to try and shake his faith in one 
whom he regarded as the victim of persecution. 

“ Will Captain Stump come back for dinner ? ” 
inquired Mr. Fenshawe, after he had glanced through 
the letters which Irene brought to him. 

“I hope so. Mrs. Haxton went off in such a hurry 
that I forgot to mention it.” 

“Was it illness, or anxiety, that sent her to the 
yacht ? ” 

“A little of both, I fancy. But why should she be 
anxious? She did not know that matters had gone 
wrong at the fort.” 

“ I think she made a shrewd guess, but was unwilling 
to alarm you. That is why she sent Mr. Roy son after 
us. By the way, what did she tell him to do ? ” 

“ I have no idea,” said Irene coldly. 

“That is odd, distinctly odd. I meant to ask him, 
but forgot it in my excitement.” 

“ He will be here in a few minutes,” said she, with a 
livelier interest. 

There was a knock at the door. A negro waiter 
had something to say, and she gathered from a jumble 
of Italian and Arabic that a native wished to see the 
Signora Haxton. The man pronounced the name 
plainly, so there could be no mistake as to his meaning, 
and Irene answered: 

“The Signora is not here.” 

Mr. Fenshawe was immersed in his letters again, 
but he looked up. 

“What is it?” he demanded. 

149 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

“Some man is asking for Mrs. Haxton,” she told 
him. 

“Better go and interview him. If he can tell us 
anything, bring him here.” 

She went down-stairs with the attendant. He 
pointed to a muffled Arab near the door, who salaamed 
deeply the instant she appeared. 

“ What do you want ^ ” she said, in Italian, and the 
Arab silently indicated a closed vehicle drawn up close 
to the curb in front of the hotel. Thinking there was 
some visitor inside who did not wish to alight, she 
went forward without hesitation. The dim, smoke- 
laden street was unusually crowded, she thought, but 
she gave no attention to the passers-by, as the Arab 
had opened the door of the dingy-looking vehicle, and 
she expected to find an occupant peering out at her. 

The conveyance was empty! 

“There is some mistake,” she said, glancing from 
the dark interior to a Somali driver, and then back to 
the silent messenger. Suddenly she had an unnerving 
consciousness that several other white-sheeted figures 
had crept stealthily between her and the doorway. 
With a little cry of alarm, she turned and strove to re- 
enter the hotel. Instantly she was swept off her feet, 
a coarse hand closed on her mouth, and she was dragged 
with brutal force into the carriage. She saw spring 
into existence what seemed to be a murderous fracas 
among a dozen men. The street was filled with 
clamor, and the pavement was blocked with struggling 
forms. Knives flashed, brawny-armed Arabs closed 
150 


Massowah Asserts Itself 

in deadly combat, and cursed each other with all the 
rich repertory of Islam. Of course, people tried to 
rush from the vestibule of the hotel to ascertain what 
was causing the tumult. But the fighters filled the 
doorway so that none could enter or leave the building, 
and, in the midst of the alarm and confusion, the pair 
of Somali ponies attached to the ramshackle vehicle 
were whipped into a fast gallop. Then the riot sub- 
sided as quickly as it arose, and, were it not that Irene 
was gone, no one appeared to be much the worse. 


151 


CHAPTER IX 


A GALLOP IN THE DARK 

Several minor rills of events combined to produce 
this tempestuous torrent at the door of the Hotel 
Grande del Universe, and any level-headed man ac- 
quainted with their meanderings might come to the 
just conclusion that Irene had been kidnapped in 
mistake for Mrs. Haxton. He might have deplored 
the blunder, but, leaving out of count any humane 
consideration for the girl’s feelings, he must have 
admired the stage-craft displayed by her abductors. 
If cool skill were worthy of success they had earned it 
in full measure. In fact, the achievement would have 
ranked high in the villainous annals of Massowah 
were it not for the blind chance that separated Mulai 
Hamed from Royson two hours earlier. 

The sun sank behind the highlands of Abyssinia 
while the Effendi awaited the Governor’s return in 
the guard-room of the fort. Thereupon his guide, 
being an orthodox Mahomedan, faced towards 
Mecca, knelt by the roadside, and bowed his forehead 
in the dust. Another devout follower of the Prophet 
joined him, and the two chanted their prayers in 
unison. It is said that hymns are seldom sung with 
152 


A Gallop in the Dark 

such gusto as in convict settlements, and, appraised by 
this standard, Mulai Hamed and his casual companion 
were accomplished rascals, for they rattled off the 
Salat and the Sunnah unctuously, and performed the 
genuflections and prostrations of the Reka with mili- 
tary precision. 

Then they exchanged news. Mulai Hamed, telling 
of the Giaours in the hotel, was vastly surprised to hear 
from his brother Mussulman, a cook in the fort, that 
two of the Effendis were prisoners. But the cook soon 
hastened away to decapitate certain skinny fowls which 
would form the basis of a Risotto al pollastro for dinner 
at the ofllcer’s mess, leaving Mulai Hamed to wonder 
if, perhaps, the tall Effendi had also been kept in 
durance vile, until he saw Mr. Fenshawe and Royson 
being whirled off in the Governor’s carriage along the 
sea front. 

He cursed both of them in suitable terms, and started 
on the long walk to the hotel. Being a born gossip, he 
chose the livelier route of the main street, which might 
3deld a meeting with another acquaintance. This 
divergence led him near the Elephant Mosque. Ab- 
dullah, wearied of the rendezvous arranged by Mrs. 
Haxton for von Kerber, detected Mulai Hamed’s 
badge, and sought information. 

“Brother,” said he, “I would have speech of thee.” 

“Say on,” was the courteous reply, for Mulai Hamed 
was flattered at being addressed thus by a man of 
distinction. 

“There be certain Giaours at thy caravanserai, an 
153 


The Wheel o' Fortune 


old man, a fat man like a bull, a young man who 
stands more than a cubit high, and a thin man, the 
Hakim Effendi, whom I await here. Hast thou any 
knowledge of them ? ” 

Mulai Hamed checked the list carefully. 

“It must be,’’ said he at last, “that the Hakim 
Effendi is in jail, for the others I have seen, but not 
him.” 

Abdullah was annoyed. He, a pure-blooded Bed- 
ouin of the desert, had already made a great con- 
cession in using the word “ brother ” to one of mixed 
race. 

“I asked not for folly,” he muttered. “That is the 
answer of a drunken Frank.” 

“Nay, friend, I speak truly. May I never drink at 
the White Pond of the Prophet if I have not told thee 
even that which I have heard.” 

Abdullah swallowed his wrath, listened to Mulai 
Hamed’s story, and was convinced. Notwithstanding 
Mrs. Haxton’s prohibition, it was now essential that he 
should see her without delay, so he accompanied the 
deputy assistant hall-porter in the direction of the 
hotel. As they went, they met a rickety closed car- 
riage being driven at a furious rate down a side street, 
and both men thought it was making for the mile-long 
causeway which connects the island of Massowah with 
the mainland. 

“Who travels in such a hurry?” asked Abdullah, 
looking after the swaying vehicle. 

“Perchance a kafla starts for the interior to-night/* 
154 


A Gallop in the Dark 

said Mulai Hamed. But the turmoil in the vicinity of 
the hotel now drew their attention, and they ran with 
others, for public blood-letting is ever an attractive 
pastime to those who form the audience. 

Dick was then leaving the telegraph-office, whence 
he had despatched a cablegram on his own account. 
Bare civility demanded that he should acknowledge 
Mr. Forbes’s various communications, so he sent the 
brief message: “Writing, Royson,” which, he thought, 
covered the ground sufficiently. Before rejoining Mr. 
Fenshawe and Irene, he walked a little way towards 
the harbor, and, as he half expected, met Stump 
returning from the yacht. 

He proceeded to astonish that stout mariner with 
the evening’s budget, but Stump had been thinking 
things out in his own fashion, and he set forth a theory 
which apparently accounted for von Kerber’s discom- 
fiture. 

“You see, it’s this way,” said he. “These bloomin’ 
I-talians have got the griffin about that treasure. And 
who gev’ it to ’em ? Why, that chap who arranged the 
hold-up at Marseilles. You said nothin’ much about 
it, which was right an’ proper, but Tagg is sharper ’n 
he looks, an’ he tole me that a paper was nicked out of 
von Kerber’s pocket. That paper put the sharks on 
the scent. They got ahead of the Aphrodite by catchin’ 
the Indian mail at Brindisi, an’ had everything cut an’ 
dried for us when we dropped anchor here. Miss Irene 
an’ me spotted one of ’em watchin’ the hotel this 
afternoon.” 


155 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“I believe that man was Alfieri,” said Dick. “In- 
deed, Mrs. Haxton admitted it to me, and it was his 
unexpected appearance that caused her to beat a 
retreat.” 

“An’ who’s Mr. Alfie Wot’s-his-name ? ” broke in 
Stump. 

“I’m sorry. I forgot that you had not heard of him. 
He is the man who secured the papyrus, or paper, at 
Marseilles. Both Mrs. Haxton and the Baron are 
afraid of him.” 

“You seem to know a dooce of a lot about this 
business,” exclaimed the skipper testily. 

“ I cannot help that — I have been dragged into it in 
many ways, each peculiar, and hardly credible when 
considered collectively. I promise you, captain, that I 
shall tell you the whole story one of these days. Mean- 
while, I think that the sooner we are at Aden the better 
it will be for Mr. Fenshawe and the ladies, and I offer 
you the respectful advice that you should back up 
Miss Fenshawe if she tries to persuade her grandfather 
to go there at once.” 

“Funny thing,” growled Stump, “but them’s Mrs. 
Haxton’s very words as I helped her up the ship’s 
ladder. Hello! Where’s the fire? Unless I’m much 
mistaken, young feller, there’s a first-class row goin’ 
on outside our bloomin’ cafe. No, no, don’t you butt 
in among Arabs as though you was strollin’ down 
Edgware Road on a Saturday night, an’ get mixed up 
in a coster rough-an ’-tumble. These long-legged swine 
would knife you just for the fun of it. Keep full an* 
156 


A Gallop in the Dark 

by, an’ let any son of a gun who comes too near have 
it where it’ll stop him.” 

Stump’s sound precautions were unnecessary. None 
of the combatants approached them. Indeed, the 
struggle ceased as quickly as it began, and they were 
in the hotel before the frightened servants dared make 
known the thrilling fact that the young lady was 
missing. The negro who accompanied her down-stairs 
was positive that she had gone off of her own accord 
in the carriage that was standing outside, but Mr. 
Fenshawe’s frantic protestations when the scared man- 
ager told him what had happened convinced Royson 
that the servant’s statement was wildly absurd. More- 
over, it became clearer each second that Mrs. Haxton, 
and not Irene, was the prize sought by the marauders. 
Royson, though in a white heat of helpless rage, soon 
became alive to this element in an otherwise inexplicable 
outrage, and endeavored to soothe Mr. Fenshawe’s 
wild-eyed alarm by telling him the girl would surely 
be sent back as soon as the error was discovered. 

There was no time for explanations. All was panic 
and useless running to and fro. A messenger was sent 
to summon the police, and matters were in a state of 
chaos when Royson was approached by an Arab whose 
clearly-chiseled features, arched eyebrows and high 
cheek-bones showed that he was of different lineage to 
the hybrids of the coast. His carriage, too, was that 
of a man of consequence, and he wore his burnous 
rather in the Algerian style. This was Abdullah, who 
had gathered from the negro’s now almost incoherent 
157 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


words that Mrs. Haxton had been spirited away in the 
carriage. He had his own reasons for believing that 
the lady would encounter difficulties in Massowah, and 
the man spoke her name readily, whereas Miss Fen- 
shawe’s was unknown to either of them. 

“Monsieur,” said he, addressing Dick quietly in 
excellent French, “ can you ride ? ” 

“Yes,” said Dick, hoping against hope that this 
calm-eyed stranger might be able to give him some 
sorely needed clue as to the manner, at least, of Irene’s 
capture. 

“Come with me, then,” continued Abdullah, in the 
same guarded tone. “I think I may be able to find 
out where Madame has been taken.” 

“You can demand your own reward if you speak 
truly,” said Dick. “Let me bring you to Mr. Fen- 
shawe. He will tell you — ” 

“ I seek the aid of none but you,” whispered Abdullah. 
“ I come to you only because you are a European, and 
I must have some one to justify me lest trouble should 
arise. I am unknown here, and my words would fall 
on deaf ears. You look like a man who can handle 
affairs. Come, monsieur, we are losing time.” 

“But I must tell my friends.” 

“No, that is not to be thought of, monsieur. If I 
am right, you and I alone must deal with this affair. 
These others are excited. They will shout their news 
to the whole bazaar. And, if we fail, we shall return 
in half an hour. Not a word to any one, but follow 
me.” 


158 


A Gallop in the Dark 

Abdullah had the air of a man who knew his own 
mind. He strode away at once without looking to 
right or left, and Royson yielded to the impulse which 
bade him not hesitate but accept the proffered assist- 
ance in the search for Irene. Action of any sort was 
preferable to a maddening wait for tardy officialdom, 
so he hastened after the Arab. 

The latter turned into the first side street. The 
absence of lamps, and a thin stratum of smoke clinging 
to the surface of the ground, made the gloom almost 
impenetrable, but Abdullah kept on with unhesitating 
steps, and Royson walked behind him rather than risk 
the chance of colliding with the strange shapes of men 
and animals which often loomed up abruptly out of 
the void. 

In a few minutes the smoke-cloud cleared, and he 
found that they had reached the outskirts of the native 
quarter. The houses were no longer huddled together; 
small hovels took the place of cramped and lofty tene- 
ments. Soon he could see dark masses of hills sil- 
houetted against the sky, where its dense blue merged 
into the amber and green of the last fiicker of daylight. 
Not far distant, a sheet of water, still as a mirror, 
refiected sky and hills in even more pronounced chia- 
roscuro, and he had just distinguished the straight black 
ridge of the landward causeway when Abdullah dived 
into a wattle-built hut. 

The Arab had not uttered a syllable during their 
rapid walk, and Royson determined not to question 
him, since his offer of help was made voluntarily, and 
159 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


he seemed to prefer silence to speech. The Englishman 
was undecided whether or not to enter the hut, which 
was apparently untenanted, but the eager whinny 
of a horse quickly explained Abdullah’s disappearance. 
There was some stamping of unshod hoofs on the 
hard earth, some straining of girths and clink of steel, 
and the Arab led forth a slenderly built animal which, 
at first sight, seemed to be far too light for a rider of 
Dick’s proportions. 

The horse’s owner, however, showed no misgivings 
on this point. He handed the bridle to Dick. 

**Attendez ici un moment ^ s' it vous plait y monsieur'' 
he said, and ran off towards another hut. The horse 
tried to follow its master, and Royson found distraction 
for a jumble of incoherent thoughts in the need there 
was to restrain its fretfulness. The animal was afraid 
of him; in all probability it had never before been 
handled by a European, but Dick spoke to it in the 
lingua franca of the stable, and he was soon allowed 
to stroke the arched neck and twine his fingers in the 
thick yellow mane. 

Abdullah did not return so speedily as was his intent. 
He had gone to borrow another mount, and met with 
delay, because the owner was in the bazaar. But 
fortune helped him by sending the man back earlier 
than usual for the evening meal, and when he cantered 
up after an absence of ten minutes, he lost no more 
time. 

“You are sure you can ride well, monsieur?” he 
demanded. 


160 


A Gallop in the Dark 

“ Quite sure.” 

“ Into the saddle, then, and let the reins hang loose. 
Moti will carry you safely, and it is but a broken road 
over the bridge.” 

Away they went, crossing some rough ground at an 
easy gallop, and Dick had his first experience of the 
remarkable sure-footedness of the Arab horse in his 
proper environment. Moti moved with the long lope 
of a greyhound, and used eyes and intelligence as well 
as feet. The pace set by Abdullah on the uneven 
causeway seemed to be dangerous, and would have 
brought down any animals but those accustomed to 
stone-strewn valleys or deserts in which patches of soft 
sand alternate with bare rock. When the mainland 
was reached, Royson rode alongside his companion. 

“ Where are we going ? ” he inquired. 

“ To a village. It is not far distant. There we may 
obtain news.” 

They pressed on. Were it not for the nature of his 
errand, Dick would have enjoyed the ride greatly, for 
the current of cool air was pleasing after the heat of 
Massowah, and Moti carried him as though he were a 
feather-weight. But his heart was too care-laden to 
enter into the spirit of the adventure. Of all the queer 
incidents of an eventful day this gallop into an unknown 
land was the queerest. He could not help asking him- 
self if he had done right. Yet the reassuring answer 
came instantly. He had left indecision behind when 
he agreed to the Arab’s conditions, and it was surely 
better to try whatever fixed plan the other had in mind 
161 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


than remain in Massowah, a prey to hopeless, purpose- 
less agony. For he knew now what it would mean to 
him if Irene Fenshawe were reft from his life, and the 
knowledge made his eyes blaze, and sent the passionate 
blood coursing through his veins. 

“ Easily, monsieur. This is the place.” 

The Arab’s strong, somewhat harsh, voice, though 
pitched in a key not meant to reach too far, brought 
Royson back to his senses. Imitating his guide, he 
tightened the reins and pulled Moti to a walk. Then 
he made another discovery. They were on a Govern- 
ment road, which happened, at that point, to have a 
smooth surface, and Moti stumbled disgracefully, for 
your true desert Arab will fall over himself when he 
no longer needs to exercise his wits in order to keep 
his feet. 

Behind a tumble-down hut a fire was blazing. Some 
men were squatted around a tripod which supported a 
large iron pot. One was speaking, and even Royson’s 
untrained ear recognized the measured cadence of the 
story-teller. A rumble of laughter showed that the 
protest of some discomfited rogue or some wise moullah’s 
saw had just tickled the audience when Abdullah leaped 
from the saddle and approached the circle. 

‘‘Peace be with you, brethren,” said he, bowing 
gravely. 

The story-teller broke off abruptly. One of the men 
rose and replied: 

“ With you be peace, brother, and the mercy of God, 
and His blessings.” 


162 


A Gallop in the Dark 

This formula made it certain that the group near the 
fire were Mahomedans. “Es-salamu aleikum!” is at 
once the test of the believer and the “ Open, Sesame ! ” 
of the desert. Abdullah was sure now of a hearing, 
sure even of counsel and assistance, provided that his 
interests did not run counter to theirs. 

Royson, dismounting for the sake of Moti, watched 
Abdullah’s face in the flickering light of the fire to 
learn whether or not he was receiving the expected 
news. He might as well have sought inspiration from 
the starry vault overhead. But he was not long kept 
in suspense. After the exchange of a few sentences 
with the man who had returned his salutation, Abdullah 
vouchsafed a brief translation. 

“ Not many minutes ago a carriage passed this way. 
It took the road to the left, where it forks, not a hundred 
meters distant. We must ride hard, monsieur, for the 
driver was flogging his beasts. Perhaps we may have 
good fortune.” 

They were up, and away, thrusting into the darkness 
in a fast gallop. At the parting of the roads they took 
the southern track, and the land almost immediately 
became hilly. They eased the horses somewhat during 
a long upward climb, but a plateau, followed by a 
gentle descent towards the shore, gave them a chance 
of mending the pace, and the wiry Arabs beneath them 
seemed to know that the more quickly the miles were 
covered the less distance would they be called on to 
travel. 

On the level again, where the occulting beam of the 
163 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Massowah lighthouse was hidden by the buildings on 
the island, they unexpectedly came upon a disabled 
vehicle. It was tilted on the side of the road in a way 
that suggested a broken wheel, and a man was holding 
two ponies which had been taken out of the traces. 

Abdullah pulled his steed almost on to its haunches, 
so suddenly did he draw rein. He pushed close to the 
horse-tender, a Somali, and a fierce dialogue broke out, 
which ended in the wrathful statement to Royson: 

“ This son of a slave says that this is not the carriage 
which passed me in the bazaar. I believe he is lying, 
but what can I do ? ” 

Dick, meanwhile, had ascertained that the convey- 
ance was empty. His gorge rose at the thought that 
Irene might be near him at that moment, yet prevented 
by some ruffian from making known her presence. The 
belief was torturing; it impelled him to a deed which, 
in calmer mood, he would have declared foreign to his 
nature. 

Handing Moti to Abdullah’s care, he went so near 
to the driver, a man of powerful build, that he could 
look into his sullen face. With a quickness born of 
many a bout with the gloves, he seized the Somali by 
the wrists, causing him to let go the ponies’ bridles. 
Then, heedless of struggles and oaths, he backed him 
a little space, threw him off his feet, and three times 
whirled him through the air around his head. It was 
an exhibition of strength that forced a cry of amazement 
even from Abdullah. 

“Now tell him,” said Dick, when the panting and 
164 


A Gallop in the Dark 

terrified native was allowed to stand upright again, 
“tell him that if he does not speak the tmth, I shall 
take him by the ankles and beat out his brains against 
the rocks in that same way.” 

“By the Holy Kaaba!” chuckled Abdullah, “that 
would be worth seeing.” 

He conquered his desire sufficiently to put the threat 
into blood-curdling Arabic, and the Somali whined that 
he was a poor man, who only obeyed orders, but, if 
the god-like Nazarene would spare his life, he was ready 
to tell all he knew. 

“ Speak, then, and quickly,” growled Abdullah, “ for 
the Effendi understands thee not, and he may lose 
patience.” 

The driver stammered something which almost 
roused the Arab to excitement. 

“ Throw that dog aside, monsieur,” he cried. “ They 
are taking the lady to a boat. The place agreed for 
the meeting is yet nearly a thousand meters in front. 
Let us see what our horses can do.” 

They were off before he had finished speaking, but 
Abdullah smiled as he rode. 

“Bismillah!” he muttered, “that is a fine trick. I 
must learn it.” 

On through the night they went, and happily the 
broken land receded here a little from the shore, leaving 
the road straight and fairly visible. 

They had gone half a mile or more, and Royson was 
beginning to fear that either the Somali had been 
daring enough to mislead them or that Irene’s guards 
165 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


had been warned by the noise of their advance and 
were crouching behind a clump of reeds until they 
passed, when Abdullah lifted a restraining hand, and 
slackened pace. 

Though the night was clear, and neighboring objects 
were quite discernible, Royson failed to pierce the 
further darkness. He strained his eyes, but could see 
nothing, while the Arab seemed to have a sixth sense 
which warned him that there were others near. They 
pulled up, and listened. Dick could hear only the 
labored breathing of their horses, yet Abdullah was 
evidently satisfied that their long chase was drawing to 
an end. 

“ Bear to the left, monsieur,” he whispered. “ They 
are there, by the water’s edge. When I give the word, 
ride apart lest they fire at us, though they will hardly 
dare do that, lest we might prove to be soldiers from 
the garrison. Are you armed ? ” 

“ Sufficiently,” said Dick grimly. 

He felt able to tear any one limb from limb who 
resisted him. Once sure of his quarry, he would give 
short shrift. So they crept on, until the Arab shouted 
“Now!” and started off at a canter. Dick realized 
that the circling movement was best, as it suggested 
an attack in force, so he took a slight detour. He was 
closing in again before he perceived some irregular 
shadows, showing black against the translucent film 
of smooth water. That sufficed. He thundered on 
ahead of Abdullah, who, perhaps, thought it advisable 
to leave this final development in the hands of a Euro- 
166 


A Gallop in the Dark 

pean. There was a scurry among a small knot of men 
on the beach. A sharp hail was answered at a con- 
siderable distance from the sea. Royson rode with such 
furious speed that he now made out a white-robed 
female figure struggling in the grasp of a man attired 
in the burnous and hood of a coast Arab. 

“ Is that you, Miss Fenshawe ^ ” he roared. 

At the sound of an English voice three men scattered 
and fled like rabbits, but the fourth, he who clutched 
the woman, set her at liberty and drew a long knife. 
He bellowed forth some order, and another shout came 
from the sea. Then he poised himself ready to strike. 
Royson was within a horse’s length, leaning forward in 
the saddle, when he caught the gleam of the uplifted 
weapon. At the same instant he recognized Irene, and 
saw that she was gagged, and her hands were tied 
behind her back. But her feet were free, and she 
deliberately kicked the Arab’s ankle, thereby discon- 
certing his murderous thrust and nearly bringing him 
to the ground. 

Then Royson’s clenched fist fell like a sledge-hammer 
on his adversary’s skull, and the man collapsed with a 
broken neck. Moti, well named “the Pearl,” seemed 
to play this sort of game with the skill that a trained 
polo-pony shows in following the ball. He stopped 
almost of his own accord, wheeled, and allowed Dick 
to lift the girl in his arms. 

Abdullah, who did not attempt to pursue the 
others, had not failed to note the rapid approach of 
a boat. 


167 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

“ Quick, now, monsieur,” he said. “ Make for the 
road ! ” 

As they cantered off they heard some shouting in 
Arabic, and a few words of Italian, but Dick was 
looking into Irene’s eyes. He was conscious only that 
he held her in a close embrace. His heart was thumping 
against his ribs. For one who had proved himself cool 
in an emergency he betrayed all the symptoms of 
unusual excitement. 

“Are you uninjured?” he asked, with a marvelous 
tenderness in his voice, while his lips were very near 
to her swathed cheek. 

She nodded. He fancied he caught a smile in her 
eyes. He did not know how lover-like was his clasp. 

“We shall stop soon and release your bonds,” he 
whispered. “Thank God I was able to find you.” 

Again he believed she smiled, but those beautiful 
brown eyes of hers seemed to fill with tears. He set 
his teeth, and breathed hard, but he was too wary to 
jeopardize success by halting until all danger of pursuit 
had disappeared. Then he pulled up, dismounted, 
and lifted Irene to the ground. She was gagged so 
tightly that he had to exercise some care in cutting the 
knotted strips of linen which bound her face and head. 
A piece of coarse sacking had been thrust into her 
mouth, and she scarce had the power to utter a word 
when the brutal contrivance was withdrawn. 

“ Oh, Mr. Royson,” she managed to gasp, “ how can 
I thank you ! ” 

“By not trying to talk until you feel better,” said 
168 


A Gallop in the Dark 

Dick. “ There is a village not far away, and we should 
at least obtain some water there.” 

He was bending over her wrists in his anxiety not to 
hurt her unduly while he severed a stout rope, and he 
could not see the expression of sheer bewilderment 
which again mastered the usually impassive features 
of Abdullah. The Arab had yielded to unwonted 
surprise when he saw Royson use a man as flail, but 
the removal of the gag, and the consequent revelation 
of Irene’s identity, nearly stupefled him. 

“May jackals deflle my grave,” he muttered, “but 
this is the wrong woman! Here have I, Abdullah the 
Spear-thrower, been befooled by a black slave in the 
caravanserai. What have I done.^ By the beard of 
the Prophet, what shall I say if her capture was part 
of the Hakim Effendi’s plan?” 


169 


CHAPTER X 


THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM 

When Irene was freed from her bonds she sighed 
deeply, uttered a little sob as though her soul had 
fluttered to her lips, and sank into Royson’s arms. In 
the ever-growing darkness he had not realized earlier 
how acute was the torture she was enduring. She 
must have experienced some difficulty in breathing, 
owing to the outrageous manner in which her mouth 
and nostrils were covered. Yet, to render her quite 
helpless, her wrists were tied with such cruel force 
that they became swollen and stiff, and her delicate 
skin was chafed until it galled beneath the rope. 

While Royson was carrying her on the high-peaked 
Arab saddle, the strain grew almost intolerable; but 
her brave heart did not flinch under that exquisite pain. 
Though she could not speak, she strove to reward him 
with a valiant smile, and even conquered the gush of 
tears that gave momentary tribute to her agony. 

And now she lay in a dead faint, pallid and inert, 
while Royson said bitter things about Alfieri. He 
blamed the Italian for all this mad business, and 
vowed harsh vengeance on him if ever they met again. 
He was quite unable to help Irene. He had less than 
170 


The Calm before the Storm 

the average man’s vague knowledge of the right treat- 
ment to adopt under such conditions. He imagined 
that the hands and face of a fainting woman should be 
bathed in water, and was about to take her back to 
the shore when Abdullah intervened. 

“ It is nothing, monsieur,” said he, with true Eastern 
nonchalance where the opposite sex was concerned. 
“ Her head and arms ache now that her bonds are 
removed. If Allah wills it, she should revive presently. 
And we cannot remain here. Whether she live or die 
let us go on, in God’s name.” 

Despite the flurry of his new predicament, the 
Englishman caught a hint of petulance in the Arab’s 
tone. It denoted a change of attitude that was all 
the more surprising when contrasted with the man’s 
previous eagerness to serve him. But there was sound 
sense in the advice thus gruffly tendered. He managed 
to remount by tucking the girl’s swaying form under 
his left arm. Then he pillowed her head on his shoul- 
der, and, letting the horse walk, strove to rub her 
hands. Fortunately, Moti did not stumble. Perhaps 
the weight of a double burthen suggested the need of 
care, but, whatever the explanation of the animal’s 
excellent behavior, they reached the broken-down car- 
riage without accident. The driver had gone off with 
his pair of ponies, but Abdullah, ruefully making the 
best of a perplexing situation, searched under the box 
seat for the porous earthenware jar of water which 
is often carried there in the East. By good hap, he 
found one, nearly half full. 

171 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“Here,” he muttered impatiently, “let her drink 
some of this, and pour the rest over her head and 
hands. Then the cold air will freshen her. And be 
quick, monsieur! Those who follow will not wait on 
ceremony.” 

Royson substituted a soaked handkerchief for Abdul- 
lah’s drastic remedy, but he soon had the satisfaction 
of seeing Irene’s lips move. Then, after testing the 
water to make sure it was drinkable, he gave her a 
mouthful, and, within a few seconds, she was in partial 
possession of her senses. Nevertheless, for an appre- 
ciable time, her gallant spirit flagged. She tried feebly 
to brush the wet strands of hair out of her eyes. 

“ Why are we stopping here ^ ” she moaned. “ Please 
take me home. I am so tired — and thirsty — and my 
mouth hurts me. Where is the yacht? What are we 
doing here?” 

“I thought she would recover soon,” broke in Ab- 
dullah. “Now, monsieur, at all costs we must reach 
the town. The hour grows late. Ride on!” 

It was remarkable, to say the least, that one who was 
willing to face unknown odds in order to effect the 
girl’s rescue should be so desperately anxious now to 
get away from a rather improbable pursuit. Yet 
again, the Arab’s suggestion offered the only practicable 
course, and Moti had to bear a double load while they 
slowly climbed the hill down which they dashed so 
precipitately before they came upon the disabled vehicle. 
This time, Dick managed to seat his fair partner more 
comfortably. He placed himself well back against the 

m 


The Calm before the Storm 

cantle, lifted Irene across his knees, and drew her 
right arm around his neck. 

Once more she sighed. Dick feared it was the 
preliminary to another collapse, until she whispered 
in delightful confidence : 

“ I remember now, Mr. Royson. I suppose I fainted. 
How good you are to me!” 

“Now, may Heaven be praised that you are all right 
again,” breathed Dick fervently. “You gave me the 
biggest sort of fright when you nearly dropped on the 
road.” 

“ Have we far to go before we reach the hotel ? ” 

“Several miles. It took us about three-quarters of 
an hour to overtake you, and we came at a rare pace.” 

“I am sure I must be making your arm ache.” 

She tried to straighten herself, and Royson missed 
the warm fragrance of her hair against his cheek. 

“I really think you ought not to move,” said he, 
with an affectation of brotherly solicitude that did 
him credit. 

“Well, if I am not wearying you,” she murmured, 
and the pretty head nestled contentedly on his shoulder. 
Then, it may be, she thought that if necessity de- 
manded this lover-like pose, she ought to redeem its 
literalness by conversation. 

“Who is your Arab friend who speaks French so 
well.^” she asked. “It was French I heard, was it 
not? And how in the world did you manage to find 
out where I was taken to ? ” 

“ You must thank our companion for that. I 
173 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


happened to meet Stump near the telegraph-office, 
and we saw a disturbance in the main street near the 
hotel. We hurried up, little imagining that it affected 
you, and several precious minutes elapsed before we 
discovered that you were missing. Mr. Fenshawe — ” 

“Ah, poor, darling grandad! I hardly dare ask 
you how he bore it. I grieved more for him than for 
myself. You see, I knew it was all a wretched mis- 
take. Those horrid men meant to carry off Mrs. 
Haxton.” 

“ I gathered as much from what Mr. Fenshawe said. 
Of course, he was very greatly distressed, but, if matters 
go well with us now, you will be restored to him in 
another hour.” 

“ I have no fear of anything when you are near, Mr. 
Royson. Something told me that long ago. And that 
is why I was vexed with you for leaving me this after- 
noon.” 

. Dick’s heart gave a great throb of joy, and his voice 
was somewhat husky as he answered: 

“I could not help myself. The Italian whom you 
and Captain Stump noticed in the street was Alfieri. 
Mrs. Haxton saw him, too, and I would never have 
believed that terror could alter a woman’s face as it 
altered hers. She begged of me to find von Kerber, 
and warn him, and I thought, perhaps foolishly, that if 
I obeyed her wishes it might bring about the very thing 
you and I most desire.” 

Irene did not reply immediately. She felt unaccount- 
ably timid. 


174 


The Calm before the Storm 

“It is stupid of me, but I do not quite follow your 
meaning,” she volunteered at last. 

“Well, you are anxious that this expedition should 
be abandoned, and I ought to return to England, 
where I am in great demand, it seems, after some 
years of scandalous neglect.” 

“ Oh ! ” she said. “ Is that it ? ” 

There was another pause. 

“But the fact that Mrs. Haxton, and not I, should 
be sitting here so — so confidentially — does not ex- 
plain how it comes about, does it?” she went on. 

“ I was so interested in what you were saying that I 
lost the thread of my story. We were listening to an 
excited jabber of nonsense in the hotel — for instance, 
one of the negro servants said you went away of your 
own free will — and wondering what on earth we could 
do, when this genii of an Arab came to me in a mys- 
terious way, and led me straight on your track. Shall 
we bid him discourse?” 

“Oh, please do. It is all so wonderful. I could 
see through the open windows of that hateful carriage 
when we crossed the causeway and went off to the left 
into a wild country. I gave up hope then. Your 
appearance on the beach was an actual miracle, to my 
thinking.” 

“ Just one word before we tackle our guide,” whis- 
pered Dick, bringing his lips as near hers as he dared. 
“ Though it was dark enough down there by the water, 
I saw you lash out at that fellow with the knife at pre- 
cisely the right moment.” 


175 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“Don’t, don’t!” she cried, shuddering, and lifting 
her eyes to his in a fleeting upward glance. “I hope 
I shall soon forget those few awful seconds. I knew 
he meant to stab you, and I wanted to scream, but 
could not. He seemed to be the leader of the party, 
and he flew into such a rage when the wheel gave way 
that I really believe he was ready to kill me out of 
spite. You knocked him down, didn’t you ? It may 
be wicked, but I hope you hit him hard.” 

“ Yes,” said Dick, “ I think your score is paid in that 
instance.” 

Her head was bent, and she could not see the grim 
smile on his lips. It was an odd thing to remember 
at that moment, but he recalled the fact that his famous 
ancestor could fell a bullock with his clenched fist. 

Abdullah, when given the opportunity, was readier 
to ply them with questions than to answer theirs. He 
said his name was “El Jaridiah,” which was true 
enough, this being the title he bore among his fellow- 
tribesmen. He also explained that he met Mulai 
Hamed, and happened to see the direction taken by 
the vehicle when it dashed clear of the scrimmage in 
the street. But he modestly disclaimed any special 
credit for his share in subsequent events, stating that 
he had many friends among the European colony at 
Cairo, and was naturally willing to help a lady against 
the thievish dogs who inhabited Massowah. 

Yet Dick added a third to these two earlier subtle 
enigmas in “El Jaridiah’s” characteristics when he 
heard the Arab’s unfeigned pleasure at the statement 
176 


The Calm before the Storm 

that it was not the lady actually rescued, but a friend 
of hers, whom the thievish dogs aforesaid meant to 
carry off. Abdullah then saw a path out of the thorny 
labyrinth which beset him. It was evident that in 
serving Miss Fenshawe he had displayed his fidelity 
to Mrs. Haxton! The notion was so gratifying that 
he made a suggestion which assuredly would not other- 
wise have occurred to him. When they reached the 
camp-fire where they were supplied with such valuable 
information on their outward journey, he would obtain 
some goat’s milk for Madame, he said, and that would 
not only restore her strength but go far towards alle- 
viating the soreness caused by the gag. 

He kept his promise. The milk was brought in a 
dubious vessel, but the girl vowed she never tasted a 
more delicious beverage. They resumed their march, 
Irene’s head dropped cozily to the region of Dick’s 
heart, and that wayward organ thumped again in the 
most alarming way. 

Once the causeway was crossed, Abdullah called a 
halt. 

“This road leads into the main street, monsieur,” 
said he to Royson. “It is quite near. If the lady is 
able to walk to the hotel, it will attract less attention 
than riding. Meanwhile, I can take the horses to 
their stables, and hasten in advance to tell your friends 
that you are safe.” 

They agreed instantly. Royson did not forget to 
pat the plucky little Arab that had carried him to the 
Gates of Eden, and Irene said that if it were feasible 
177 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


she would buy Moti and have him sent to England. 
And thus they parted from Abdullah, thinking to meet 
him again five minutes later. 

But their next encounter with the Spear-thrower was 
destined to take place under strange conditions. His 
present intent was to slip away and seek an interview 
with Mrs. Haxton, as he had managed to worm out 
the information that she was on board the yacht. The 
last thing he desired was to be dragged into prominence. 
Though he had not been taught that a man might “ do 
good by stealth and blush to find it fame,” he was 
specially anxious that his action of that night should 
not be trumpeted forth in every ear. 

Long before they gained the main thoroughfare, 
both Royson and Irene were conscious of many prying 
eyes. Not a few passers-by yielded frankly to curi- 
osity and followed them. The girl, of course, was 
hatless. Her dress of fine muslin was of a style and 
texture seldom seen in Massowah, and if the rare 
beauty of her face could excite comment in Hyde Park 
it would surely not pass unnoticed in a small and semi- 
barbarous Red Sea port. 

Royson, too, though his white drill uniform was 
familiar enough to the public, was out of keeping with 
his surroundings. He towered among the puny 
Italians; not a stalwart negro nor gaunt Arab in the 
throng could equal him in stature and physique. 

So they both agreed in thinking that they were 
much more at ease when Moti was carrying them 
along the dark road of the mainland than now while 
178 


The Calm before the Storm 

hurrying through the packed and dimly-lighted streets. 
But the sensation they created in the bazaar was as 
naught compared with the overwhelming effect of their 
arrival in the Grand Hotel of the Universe. Two 
officers of gendarmerie and a round dozen of soldier- 
policemen became incoherent at sight of them. The 
hotel manager nearly wept with joy. He tumbled 
up-stairs, tripping not once but several times, in his 
eagerness to make known to the English milord that 
the Signorina Fenshawe had returned. The vestibule 
filled in the most amazing way with a crowd that seemed 
to speak all languages under the sun. Mr. Fenshawe 
rushed to the head of the stairs as soon as he grasped 
the meaning of the manager’s dramatic announcement, 
and a combined ‘‘Ah!” of gratification gushed from a 
hundred throats when Irene flung herself into his 
arms. Clearly, this affair had stirred Massowah to 
its depths. It would supply food for gossip during 
many a day. That long drawn-out “Ah!” was, in 
some sense, a testimony to Abdullah’s wisdom. 

While Irene was sobbing her joy on her grand- 
father’s breast, Stump crushed a broad track through 
the ever-increasing mob until he reached Royson. 

“ I was bettin’ on you from the minnit I missed you,” 
he roared genially. “You’re a fair wonder, an’ no 
mistake. By Gad, how did you manage it? The 
Governor has raised the whole crimson town, I will say 
that for him. I don’t know his lingo, but I rather 
fancy he swore to have a scalp for every hair on Miss 
Irene’s head if she didn’t turn up afore daylight. 

179 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Where was she? Who took her off? The police are 
huntin’ for your friend Alfie this hour an’ more.” 

Stump ’s concluding item was at once gratifying and 
puzzling. 

“ How did they come to suspect him ? ” asked Dick, 
ignoring the rest of his commander’s outburst. 

“ Mrs. Haxton put ’em on his track. You see, it was 
this way. I sent the jolly-boat’s crew back to the 
yacht with orders that Tagg was to arm every mother’s 
son on board, an’ be ready for action when Mr. 
Fenshawe gev the word. The old man wasn’t half 
mad, I can tell you. I take my solemn davy he’d 
have stormed that bloomin’ fort to-morrow mornin’. 
Mrs. Haxton heard about the trouble, an’ wrote a note 
sayin’ as how that Dago we saw to-day was at the 
bottom of the whole dam business. She tole Mr. 
Fenshawe to demand von Kerber’s release. He was 
the on’y man who could handle Alfie, she said, an’, 
wot between our commodore’s threat to land an armed 
force, an’ the red-hot cables he’s bin sendin’ to London 
an’ Rome, sink me if the Governor isn’t scared to 
death.” 

“ Is the Baron at liberty, then ? ” 

“Not yet. There’s no knowin’ wot might have 
happened if you’d kep away another hour or two. 
The ole man has raised Cain, I can tell you. But, 
look here, I’m doin’ all the talkin’, an’ it ain’t fair.” 

“Did no one tell you a few minutes ago that Miss 
Fenshawe had escaped and was hurrying here with 
me?” 


180 


The Calm before the Storm 

“Ax me another,” growled Stump. Then he eyed 
Royson critically. “I know wot’s wrong with you,” 
he went on. “ You’re light-headed for want of a drink. 
Come out of it. Damme, you need lubricatin’!” 

They went to the upper floor, and Mr. Fenshawe 
hurried to grasp Dick’s hand. 

“I will not endeavor to thank you now,” he said 
brokenly. “My gratitude is too deep for words, but 
— believe me, Mr. Royson — if I had lost my little 
girl — it would have killed me.” 

The hotel manager came to Dick’s relief. With a 
face all wrinkled in a satisfied grin, he informed them 
that “dinner was now served.” The poor man had 
been waiting two hours to make that announcement, 
and Irene’s gleeful appreciation of this low comedy 
close to the night’s adventures showed that she was 
little the worse either in health or spirits. She would 
not hear of a doctor’s being summoned. She assured 
her grandfather that soreness of lips and wrists would 
not impair her appetite, but she hoped that the dinner 
would not be utterly spoiled if it were delayed two 
minutes longer — she had actually forgotten to bring 
forward the Arab who had helped Mr. Royson to res- 
cue her! 

Yet, search as they might, El Jaridiah was not to 
be found. None knew him, nor had any news of the 
girl’s safety been received until she was seen in the 
vestibule. Though mystified, they were far too ex- 
cited to pay special heed to the circumstance at the 
time. Both Irene and Royson believed that the man 
181 


The Wheel o Fortune 


was detained by some slight difficulty with regard to 
the horses, one of which, they knew, was borrowed. 
They said that surely he would come to the hotel ere 
dinner was ended. But he came not. The only 
interruption to a lively meal was supplied by the 
Governor, who showed very proper official horror 
when he heard the story of Irene’s abduction, and saw 
the evidences of the rough usage to which she had 
been subjected. 

He was so urbane and apologetic, and promised 
such impartial punishment both for the persons who 
inspired the outrage and for those who actually carried 
it out, that Mr. Fenshawe deferred to the morrow the 
stern protest he meant to register against von Kerber’s 
detention. It was quite true, as Stump told Royson, 
that strongly-worded cablegrams were despatched to 
London and Rome earlier in the evening. Diplomatic 
representations would certainly be made in both 
capitals, and the yacht-owner felt that the local authori- 
ties would now leave matters entirely to the Italian 
Colonial Minister. 

So a truce was proclaimed Before he left them, the 
Governor drank to Miss Fenshawe ’s health in the best 
champagne that the Grand Hotel of the Universe could 
produce. 

The four people rose from their belated meal at half 
past ten. A sailor came from the Aphrodite in re- 
sponse to a message sent by Stump announcing Miss 
Fenshawe’s return. The jolly-boat was waiting to 
take them on board, he said, and they walked to the 
182 


The Calm before the Storm 

jetee, escorted by the whole body of gens d’armes 
who had mounted guard at the hotel. 

The long pull across the starlit waters of the harbor 
was peculiarly refreshing and restful after the thrilling 
events of the day. Irene said with a laugh that it was 
almost worth while being kidnapped for the sake of 
becoming a heroine, and Mr. Fenshawe yielded to the 
soothing influence of the hour in expressing the opinion 
that he expected to hear of the Baron’s unconditional 
release early next day. 

“By the way,” said the girl, speaking to the boat- 
swain, “how was Mrs. Haxton when you left the 
yacht ? ” 

“ She was all right, miss, when I saw her about nine 
o’clock. She was just goin’ ashore — ” 

“Going ashore!” For the life of her, Irene could 
not help the blank wonderment of that repetition. 

“Yes, miss. An Arab kem for her.” 

“ Are you sure ? ” 

“Sartin, miss. It was about two bells when that 
craft hailed us — wasn’t it. Bill.?” 

The sailor thus unexpectedly appealed to was taken 
by surprise. He nearly swallowed a quid of tobacco 
before he answered: 

“That’s correct. It struck two bells just arter they 
shoved off.” 

“Do you know where Mrs. Haxton meant to go? 
I mean, was she making for the hotel ? ” 

“I didn’t happen to hear, miss. But Mr. Tagg was 
talkin’ to the lady. P’raps he can tell you,” 

183 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


From the silence prevailing among her companions 
Irene was aware that they were as much astounded by 
the man’s statement as she herself. It was impossible 
to discuss the matter further in front of the boat’s crew, 
but the girl whispered to Royson, who was sitting 
near her: 

“Did you ever hear anything more amazing.^ She 
could not have missed us. What can be her object in 
going off alone ? ” 

“We may be able to answer those questions, and 
others, when we find out who it was that came for her.” 

“ Some Arab, the man says. How strange that Mrs. 
Haxton should be acquainted with an Arab in Masso- 
wah!” 

Mr. Fenshawe bent towards them. 

“Do not forget,” he said in a low voice, “that Mrs. 
Haxton may not have heard earlier of von Kerber’s 
arrest. I am inclined to think that he has managed 
to communicate with her in some manner. A curious 
letter I received to-day may throw light on the problem. 
I was reading it when that hotel man burst in on me 
with the news of your escapade, Irene. To tell the 
truth, I have not given much thought to it since.” 

Royson was convinced that Mrs. Haxton, finding 
the game was up, had fiown. But Tagg’s version of 
the lady’s sudden departure did not lend color to this 
view. He stated that a shore boat came alongside a 
few minutes before nine o’clock, and an Arab, who 
was its sole passenger, stood up and said clearly: 

“Me Abdullah. See Madame Haxton.” 

184 


The Calm before the Storm 

That, seemingly, was the full extent of the man’s 
English. He repeated the sentence until Tagg sent 
Miss Fenshawe’s maid to tell Mrs. Haxton that an 
Arab named Abdullah was asking for her. 

“She kem at once,” said Tagg, “an’ they began to 
parleyvoo as quick as you like — ” 

“ They spoke French ? ” broke in Irene, with a side- 
long glance at Dick. The far-fetched notion which 
gripped him instantly had also occurred to the girl. 

“Yes, miss. You can alius tell French by the 
mongin’ an’ bongin’ an’ tongin’ that goes on.” 

At another time Irene would have hailed Tagg’s 
subtle humor with glee, but there was an element of 
deadly earnest in the history of the past few hours 
that kept her strictly to the issue. 

“ This Arab — ” she said, “ was he a tall, good-look- 
ing man with a striped hood to his burnous, his outer 
cloak, you know.?” 

“That’s him,” agreed Tagg. “More like a fellow 
you’d see at Tangier than in these parts. You know 
the sort of chap I mean, cap’n ? ” 

“I do,” said Stump. “Reg’lar stage Arabs, they 
are. Sort of Frenchified, with clipped whiskers.” 

“But please tell me what happened,” cried Irene 
breathlessly. 

“Well, miss, there ain’t much to tell. They had a 
serious confab for five minutes, an’ then she tells me 
she’s goin’ ashore. ‘ Wot time will ye be back, m’am, 
an’ I’ll send a boat,’ sez I. ‘I dunno,’ sez she, ‘I may 
be late, so I shall return in a native boat.’ She axed 
185 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


your maid, miss, to bring a wrap from her cabin, an* 
she was gone without another word.’* 

“Then that settles it,” interposed Mr. Fenshawe 
dryly. “Mrs. Haxton is a lady who knows her own 
mind. She is fully qualified to take care of herself. 
Off you go to bed, Irene. SuflScient for the day is 
the excitement thereof. And, according to present 
indications, we shall be kept busy to-morrow. Good- 
night, Mr. Royson. I shall be better able to thank 
you in the morning.” 

Irene, too, held out a hand to Dick. 

“I’m making up all sorts of nice compliments to 
offer you,” she said pleasantly. “You need not 
protest. I was gagged for the best part of an hour 
when I very specially wanted to talk, so I have a whole 
lot of things to say after breakfast.” 

Dick read the meaning of the glance she flashed at 
him. Oddly enough, it expressed his own thought. 
They must endeavor to find out how Mrs. Haxton 
came to be such a close acquaintance of El Jaridiah’s. 
Not only had he risked his life when he fancied she 
was in danger, but she, on her part, was willing to re- 
turn with him to Massowah under cover of the night 
— to Massowah, whence she had fled in terror not 
many hours earlier. 


186 


CHAPTER XI 


A WOMAN INTERVENES 

When Mrs. Haxton descended the yacht’s gang- 
way, and seated herself in the boat which had brought 
Abdullah from the shore, she threw a main with fate. 
But she was acting with her eyes open, whereas poor 
mortality is oft called on to take that dangerous hazard 
blindfold. During several haggard hours she had 
weighed her prospects in the scale of judgment, and 
the balance was wofully unfavorable. Wealth she 
had none; and now she saw position slipping away 
also. As sure as the sun would rise next day, so sure 
was it, as matters stood then, that exposure and hu- 
miliation must arrive. To this hard, level-headed, 
shrewd woman there was no blinking the outcome of 
an official inquiry. Alfieri was in Massowah, Alfieri, 
the man she had wronged as Delilah wronged Samson. 
If he were arrested, owing to Irene’s abduction, he 
would demand to be confronted with von Kerber, 
would ask that she, too, should be arraigned with the 
Austrian, and put forward such an indisputable plea 
that, whatever the outcome for the Italian, her English 
friends must recoil from her with indignation. And 
there was worse in store. Mr. Fenshawe’s generosity 
187 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


might provide the means of returning to Europe, but 
she would go back discredited, a mere adventuress, 
while the publicity attached to the yacht’s errand 
could hardly fail to bring her name into fatal notoriety. 
In a word, social ruin stared her in the face, and the 
prospect was so unpleasing that her despairing glance 
turned more than once towards a dressing-case con- 
taining drugs whose labels spelt oblivion. 

Then came the Arab, with news of Irene’s return, 
and, like any desperate gamester who ventures the 
last shreds of a wasted capital on some almost im- 
possible chance, she determined to fight Alfieri to the 
end. 

It was not a thing to be done in cold blood. Unarmed 
men have saved their lives by boldly attacking lions, 
but that is no argument in favor of an unarmed man 
going out of his way to search for the king of beasts. 
And the measure of Alfieri ’s hate was supplied by his 
daring attempt to capture her. She shuddered to 
think of the result had he been successful, yet she 
nerved herself now to out-maneuver him. Of course, 
there were some slight elements in her favor. The 
blunder which had placed her enemy at loggerheads 
with the authorities gave her a momentary advantage. 
The man’s lust for vengeance might, indeed, sweep 
aside her attack, but she must risk that. Had fate 
been kinder, Mrs. Haxton was cast in the mold that 
produces notable women. She knew when to unite 
boldness with calculation; she would always elect to 
die fighting rather than cower without a blow; and she 
188 


A Woman Intervenes 


would never believe a cause lost while there was a man 
to be wheedled. 

The Somali crew ferried her swiftly towards the 
landing-stage, and she bade Abdullah render a full 
account of the rescue. 

“You speak of a boat,” she commented, with a 
puzzled air. “Did you see the occupants ” 

“ No, madame. We heard some shouting by Italians. 
That is all.” 

“ A boat ! ” she said, deep in thought. “ That seems 
to suggest that I was to be brought back to the town. 
The hired carriage and the long drive into the country 
were intended to throw dust in the eyes of those who 
might endeavor to find me.” 

“ Or to a ship,” suggested Abdullah. “ Had they a 
dhow in readiness? Perhaps, by this time, they may 
have slipped away to sea under cover of the darkness.” 

Mrs. Haxton laughed, but her mirth had not its 
wonted musical cadence. 

“No,” she said, “that is not likely. Grand Dieu, 
if only it were! Now, listen, and do exactly as I bid 
you. Somewhere in Massowah, probably in one of 
the small restaurants, you will find a man named 
Giuseppe Alfieri. You must inquire at every cafe 
and boarding house in the main street — there are not 
many. You cannot mistake him. You met him once 
at Assouan, and you may recall his appearance — he 
is tall and thin, with a lean, sallow face, clean shaven. 
He has long, black hair and his eyes are large and 
deeply set. When you find him, you will say that I 
189 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


wish to see him. He will be surprised, and talk big, 
but he will surely question you. Make no secret of 
the fact that you are in my confidence. Tell him I 
offer a truce, that I am in a position to make terms. 
He may bluster, and boast, perhaps, that I am on my 
knees. Well, admit it, and remind him that where I 
fail, he, at least, has no chance of success. Do you 
understand.^ It is a question as between money and 
revenge. Alfieri is something of a fool. If the bait 
be tempting enough he will swallow it, and not for the 
first time.” 

Abdullah nodded with complete comprehension of 
her under-thought. The Italian had been tricked 
once. It might be possible to trick him again. 

“ If he agrees, Madame, when is he to meet you ? ” 

“ To-morrow morning, at eleven o’clock, at the 
hotel.” 

“But this other affair has set the bazaar in an up- 
roar. One cannot carry off young English ladies so 
easily. Monsieur Alfieri may be a prisoner.” 

“No such luck,” said Mrs. Haxton bitterly. “You 
are not acquainted with the twists and turns of events, 
Abdullah. That which was simple at Assouan has 
become complex here. Alfieri has inflamed the mind 
of some high official at Rome, or he never could have 
persuaded the Governor to go to such lengths as to 
arrest Fenshawe Effendi, not to speak of Monsieur le 
Baron. No, this pig of a Governor has a Minister 
behind him. He may threaten, but Alfieri is safe.” 

“Nevertheless, he may be hidden.” 

190 


A Woman Intervenes 


“That will suit me equally well. Zut! Abdullah, 
you are not so quick as usual to-night.” 

“Pardon, Madame, you have told me what I am to 
do, but you have said no words as to yourself, yet 
behold, we shall be on shore in a few minutes.” 

“I? I am going to the fort. I have one card 
to play with his Excellency. Pray to your Prophet, 
Abdullah, that it may succeed.” 

The Arab bowed silently. It might be that he 
stood to win, no matter who lost, in this war of intrigue. 

“ Do I see you again to-night, Madame ? ” he asked, 
as the boat drew alongside the jetty. 

“I think not. Come with me until I obtain an 
alabeeyah. Then, to your search, and report to me 
early to-morrow.” 

They soon found an alabeeyah, one of the small 
open carriages made popular in Egypt by the French, 
and Mrs. Haxton was driven towards the fort. The 
Arab began his quest for Giuseppe Alfieri, but found 
him not, for the most convincing reason that Alfieri 
was then seated in the Governor’s library, smoking the 
Governor’s cigarettes, and drinking the Governor’s 
best Capri. 

His Excellency had just returned from the hotel. 
He, too, had deferred to the morning a tactful explana- 
tion that pressure of business had prevented the 
despatch of Mr. Fenshawe’s cablegrams that night. 
But tact was not his most obvious gift. Though he 
hoped to mollify the irate yacht-owner with soft words, 
he did not spare Alfieri now. 

191 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“The madness of it!” he cried. “You say it was a 
mistake. That is the plea of a stupid child. The 
aiffair would have been just as awkward if you had 
carried off the Signora Haxton. She is a British sub- 
ject. In two days the newspapers of Europe would 
magnify the incident into an international dispute, 
and, with Abyssinia always ready to fan the flame — ” 
“Believe me. Excellency, the Signora herself would 
have written that she had gone away of her own free 
will,” broke in the other. 

“I doubt it very much. Her friends could not fail 
to think that she was writing under compulsion. I 
tell you, idiot that you are, you have prejudiced your 
own case, made difficulties where they did not exist. 
If your sworn statements are true — ” 

“They are true, true as death,” vociferated Alfieri. 
‘^Ehhenel Why, then, strengthen your enemies by 
giving them just cause for complaint ” 

“ If only you knew what I have suffered through that 
woman. Excellency!” came the angry cry. 

“Oh, blame the woman, of course,” said the Gov- 
ernor, with the fine scorn of a man who has married a 
meek wife. “I lose patience with these transports. 
If a woman preferred another to me I would dance at 
her wedding.” 

“You would not dance if she had used all the arts 
of treachery to rob you of your fortune.” 

“I flatter myself I would resist the tricks of any 
siren who was merely anxious to delude me. But this 
is beside the question. These English suspect you of 


A Woman Intervenes 


planning the outrage. Frankly, I cannot see my way 
to meet the inquiry which must be made, sooner or 
later. Perhaps the old man, Fenshawe, may consent 
to tone down his messages to-morrow. If he refuses, 
and sails to Aden, the very cables will fuse under the 
storm of remonstrance from Rome. I may be recalled. 
That pig, Festiano, will be appointed in my place. 
The more I consider your imbecility the less am I 
inclined to put faith in anything you have said. How 
do I know that your Greek was not an addle-headed 
ass like yourself? Corpo di Dio I His treasure of 
Saba may be a piece of moon-madness akin to this 
tragi-comic plot of yours.” 

“I would have bent her to my will. I could make 
her go to this Austrian dog and tell him begone. I 
could force her to confess to the Englishman that she 
had deceived him.” 

'' Saettal I am out of temper with you,” growled 
the Governor, lighting a cigarette and smoking furi- 
ously. 

He was fond of plain speaking, this temporary ruler 
of Erythrea. The sudden death of a Governor ap- 
pointed from Rome had given him his chance. He 
might be superseded at any moment by some carpet- 
bagger with political influence, and it went against 
the grain that the private feuds of people whose quarrels 
did not interest him in the least should be able to 
wreck his career. Alfieri came to him with good 
credentials. If the man’s story was borne out by 
facts, not only would Italy receive a handsome sum 
193 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


from a colony which had hitherto been a drain on her 
resources, but he, Marchetti, would reap some share 
of the credit, not to mention the bonus promised for 
his assistance. His instructions from headquarters 
were clear. He had acted within his rights in arrest- 
ing von Kerber and detaining Mr. Fenshawe until the 
latter gave up an undertaking to land on Italian terri- 
tory without permission. That he had decided to 
release the Englishman unconditionally was a further 
tribute to his good judgment. Having caged the hawk 
there was no hann in freeing the pigeon. But Alfieri’s 
passionate and ill-advised attempt to abduct Mrs. 
Haxton had changed the whole aspect of affairs. No 
wonder the stout and pompous little man fumed and 
fretted in vain endeavor to climb out of this unex- 
pected pit. 

Alfieri looked at his restless companion in moody 
silence. In aspect, he was the exact opposite to the 
podgy Governor. Slender, and loosely built, he had the 
large, sunken eyes of a dreamer, the narrow forehead 
of the self-opinionated, the delicate nostrils and mobile 
mouth of the neurotic temperament. It was easy to 
see that such a man would brood over an injury, real 
or imagined, till he had lashed himself into a tempest 
of wrath. His emotions could know no mean. From 
sullen despair he could rebound to the most extrava- 
gant optimism. That very day he had rushed away 
from the painstaking details of a semi-scientific ex- 
pedition in order to gratify a Sicilian impulse which 
called for the ruthless settlement of an old score. 

194 


A Woman Intervenes 


Even now, the sense of failure rankled deeper than 
the contemptuous anger of his fellow-countryman; 
but the practical-minded Governor had no intent to 
leave matters where they stood. 

“ It seems to me,” he said, turning suddenly on 
Alfieri, after gazing out across the harbor and watching 
the twinkling lights on the AphroditCy “ it seems to me 
that the best thing we can do now is to arrange a 
compromise. It is not too late. We must board the 
Englishman’s yacht early in the morning — ” 

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. A 
servant entered. There was a lady to see his Excel- 
lency. By Bacchus, a lady, at that hour, nearly ten 
o’clock! Who was she, and what did she want? He 
could not be bothered — 

Then he read the name on the card brought by the 
man, and whistled softly, lest perchance this latest 
phase of an electrical situation should demand words 
not in the repertory of excellencies. 

“Wait outside for one moment,” he said. Alfieri, 
alive to Signor Marchetti’s suppressed excitement, 
wondered who the visitor could be. The governor 
examined the card again. He gave his companion a 
rather dreaiy smile. 

“You are but a tinfoil conspirator, after all, my 
friend,” said he. “Here is a woman who despises 
you.” 

Alfieri sprang to his feet with an oath. 

“She has not dared!” he cried. 

“Calm yourself, I pray you. The Signora Haxton 
195 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


has come to pay a visit — that is all. The hour is late, 
but, from what you have told me, she is not likely to 
be troubled by a consideration of that kind. Now, 
Signor Alfieri, I am going to receive her. Do not for- 
get that I am the chief magistrate of Massowah. It is 
probable that, through her instrumentality, I may be 
able to extricate both myself and you from the pre- 
dicament into which your folly has plunged us. And 
I warn you that any display of temper will be fatal. 
Let us go slowly and we may go far.” 

Alfieri, all a-quiver with uncontrollable emotion, 
fixed his glowing eyes on the door when the servant 
returned with Mrs. Haxton. She entered, with the 
graceful ease of one accustomed to meet greater dig- 
nitaries than the head of a small Italian colony. Signor 
Marchetti advanced a few paces. Where a lady was 
concerned he could be courteous enough, his abrupt- 
ness being a specially cultivated mannerism intended 
to impress natives with a sense of his importance. 
But, beneath the skin of office, he was Italian to the 
core, and he promised himself a fine scenic effect when 
the Englishwoman’s glance fell on the other occupant 
of the room. 

But Mrs. Haxton had nerved herself to play for 
a high stake. Though she shrank back a little and 
caught her breath when she saw Alfieri, there was a 
restraint in her attitude which might have surprised a 
more astute person than Governor Marchetti. Her 
eyes contracted somewhat, her lips tightened, a hand 
clutched at the folds of a cloak thrown loosely over her 
196 


A Woman Intervenes 


shoulders. Marchetti paid heed to these things, and 
interpreted them as evidences of timidity. A man 
accustomed to wield a rapier rather than a cudgel 
would not have made that initial error. Alfieri’s 
presence changed the whole situation, and Mrs. Haxton, 
in whom the stage had lost a great actress, instantly 
bent her wits to deal with the new set of circumstances 
thus created. 

“You speak Italian, signora? Ah, capital! Pray 
be seated,’’ said the Governor affably. “As you have 
honored me with a call at this unusual hour I take it 
that your business is urgent. Do you wish to confer 
with me in private ? If so. Signor Alfieri, who is not 
unknown to you, I believe, will leave us for a few 
minutes. Otherwise, you can talk quite frankly in his 
presence.” 

That was the Governor’s method of putting his two 
visitors at their ease. The lady would assume he knew 
everything. The man would take his cue from a 
friendly opening. What could be better ? 

“I am glad that Signor Alfieri is here, your Ex- 
cellency, though I must admit that I did not expect 
to see him,” said Mrs. Haxton, taking the proffered 
chair. “My business concerns him, to a certain ex- 
tent. By all means, let him remain.” 

Her voice was under control. She spoke Italian 
fluently, and her smooth, clear accents seemed to stir 
strange memories in Alfieri’s soul. But, thinking to 
annoy her, he forced a spiteful grin to his thin lips. 

“Allowing for the lapse of years, Rita,” he said, 
197 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“and bearing in mind your natural distress at to-day’s 
occurrences, you are looking remarkably well.” 

She flashed one quick glance at him, then smiled 
sweetly at Marchetti. 

“My distress ended when the Signorina Fenshawe 
was brought back to her friends. Of course, it was a 
dreadful thing that she should be carried off in such a 
way. Were it not for the skill and resource displayed 
by one of the A'phrodite^s officers, there is no knowing 
what the consequences might have been.” 

“ You have seen the signorina at the hotel ? ” put in 
the Governor. 

“No, I came straight from the yacht. I thought it 
advisable.” 

“But the affair has been misrepresented. It is a 
mere bagatelle. There exists, shall we say, a certain 
disagreement between you and Signor Alfieri. There 
was an unhappy mistake, which I would have rectified 
without any help from the yacht. You see, rumor is 
apt to exaggerate.” 

“ I think you are taking a very reasonable and proper 
view, your Excellency. It will be best for all parties 
if we try to regard the incident in that light.” 

Marchetti was vaguely conscious of a too complete 
agreement in the lady’s tone. But he seized the 
apparent advantage. 

“Then that is settled,” he said cheerfully. “I have 
already apologized to Signor Fenshawe. To-morrow 
a more ample explanation and expression of regret 
should remove any cause of friction.” 

198 


A Woman Intervenes 


“I have reason to think there will be no difficulty 
in arriving at an amicable settlement, provided you 
fall in with the suggestion I am here to make.” 

“And that is 

“That you release the Baron von Kerber to-night.” 

“Ha!” snarled Alfieri, but the Governor angrily 
motioned him to be silent. 

“No one is better aware than yourself, signora, how 
utterly impossible is your request,” he said. 

“ The proposal is not even worthy of debate, then ? ” 

“But no.” 

“That is a pity. My small experience of life has 
taught me that when two reasonable people, or even 
three, hold different views on any given subject, there 
is always something to be said in favor of each con- 
tention. Indeed, wisdom leans towards a compromise 
in such a case.” 

“You presuppose a mere divergence of opinion. 
Here we have no room for it. Your confederate, 
signora, if you will pardon a harsh term, is believed to 
have stolen valuable documents from my friend. 
Signor Alfieri. My Government has instructed me 
to arrest him, and to use every means, not stopping 
short of armed force, to prevent the A'phrodite from 
undertaking what is little else than a piratical expe- 
dition. You see, therefore, that it is not in my power, 
if I were so minded, to set Baron von Kerber at Hberty. 
Compromise in any other direction would appeal to 
me. Where Baron von Kerber is concerned, I am 
helpless.” 


199 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


His Excellency was firmly planted on the guberna- 
torial dais once more. Mrs. Haxton evidently de- 
manded plain speaking. Being a blunt man, he gave 
it to her. But she smiled again, quite pleasantly. 

“That is what I may describe as the correct official 
attitude,” she said. “If it were founded on fact, it 
would be unassailable. But Signor Alfieri can tell you 
that the Baron most certainly did not steal anything 
from him. If a culprit must be found, it was I, not 
Franz von Kerber, who should be charged with 
theft.” 

“ Ah, Dio mio, you hear ? She admits ! ” 

Alfieri almost screeched the words. He was in a 
frenzy of passion. This woman had ever the power 
to drive him beyond bounds. He hated her now with 
an intensity born of derided love. The Governor 
would have stormed at him, but Mrs. Haxton accepted 
the challenge too promptly. 

“I admit nothing,” she cried with a sudden shrill- 
ness. “If admissions are necessary I shall wait until 
Abdullah confronts you. Then, when I have told my 
story, he shall tell his.” 

“ Who cares for Abdullah ! ” came the retort. “ Not 
I. It is well, indeed, to appeal to the testimony of an 
unknown Arab.” 

“You shall have the opportunity of refuting him,” 
said Mrs. Haxton. “He is in Massowah. But that 
is a question for such tribunal as may exist in this law- 
less town. Your Excellency’s decision is final?” she 
added, turning to the Governor. 

200 


A Woman Intervenes 


“Absolutely irrevocable, signora. You see how it 
stands — my orders are explicit.” 

“Their explicitness is as nothing compared to the 
clearness of the next mandate you will receive from 
Rome,” she blazed out. “Was it according to your 
orders that an English lady was carried off by brigands, 
simply to glut the vengeance of my discarded Beppo.^ 
You spoke of confederates. Signor Marchetti. What 
of the confederacy that permits this man to be your 
guest while your officers are making mock search for 
him in the bazaar? Your judges, even such as they 
are, will laugh him out of court when he tries to sub- 
stantiate the charge he has brought against Baron von 
Kerber. Poor, love-sick fool! — to gratify his spite 
he attacks his rival with false evidence rather than let 
it be known that a woman twisted him round her little 
finger. Look at him now; he would strike me dead, 
if he dared; but he cannot answer me.” 

Alfieri leaped to his feet. His voice rose to a cracked 
falsetto. 

“You hear, you hear!” was his cry. “She robbed 
me of the papyrus, yet boasts of it. She is a thief, 
self-confessed.” 

Mrs. Haxton also sprang up. Her physical dread of 
the man had yielded to the triumph of having cornered 
him. 

“Truly I hope his Excellency hears,” she said. “If 
I am to blame for the loss of your papers, why is Baron 
von Kerber in prison on your testimony?” 

“You are both in league,” he almost screamed. “I 
201 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


was blind, infatuated, at Assouan. It was the Austrian 
who planned my undoihg, and you, his paramour, 
who cajoled me out of my senses.” 

“I refuse to stay here and be insulted by such a 
coward,” she said, gathering her skirts as though she 
intended to take her departure instantly. “But it will 
be a fine story that Signor Fenshawe cables from Aden 
when he tells how the Governor of Massowah aided 
and abetted this half-crazy poltroon in onslaughts on 
defenseless women. It was not enough that Italian 
law should be misused to further his ends, but the scum 
of the bazaar is enlisted under his banner, and he is 
supported by the authorities in an act that would be 
reprobated by any half-savage state in existence.” 

“I pray you calm yourself, signora,” exclaimed 
Marchetti, now fully alive to the dangers confronting 
him. “You must see that I have only acted in an 
official capacity. I, at least, have no feeling in the 
matter. I received certain information — ” 

“Which was entirely misleading and one-sided,” 
she broke in imperiously. 

“ Which certainly did not refer to you in any particu- 
lar,” was the sharp rejoinder, while he glanced at 
Alfieri. “If this gentleman is now prepared to say 
that he was mistaken — ” 

“ Who dares to hint at any admission on my part ? ” 
shouted Alfieri. 

The stout Governor did not like to be bawled at. 
He was sufficiently embarrassed already by the quag- 
mire into which Alfieri had plunged him. 

202 


A Woman Intervenes 


“You ought to be careful in your choice of words,” 
he said pompously. “There is no question of ‘dare’ 
or ‘ dare not ’ where I am concerned. Signora, do me 
the favor of sitting here while I discuss matters briefly 
with Signor Alfieri. Signor, be good enough to pre- 
cede me.” 

He pointed to the door. With a queer catching at 
her breath, Mrs. Haxton sank into a chair. Alfieri 
folded his arms and gazed at the Governor with eyes 
that blazed under his heavy brows. 

“You are the representative of Italy,” he said, 
making a great effort to speak quietly. “ I call on you 
to lodge that woman in a cell so that she may be tried 
with her accomplice.” 

“If you do not go instantly, and in silence, into the 
corridor, I shall call on my guards to take you there 
by force,” exclaimed Marchetti with a more successful 
assumption of ease. 

Alfieri turned his lambent glance on Mrs. Haxton, 
but the Governor stopped the imminent outburst. 

“I said ‘in silence,’” he roared, stretching a hand 
to grasp a bell-rope. Alfieri, with a fierce gesture of 
disdain, went out. His Excellency bowed to the lady. 

“Two minutes,” he murmured. “The wine on the 
table is Capri. You will find it grateful after this 
somewhat heated interview.” 

But Mrs. Haxton drank no wine when the Governor 
followed Alfieri. She bit her lips and clenched her 
hands in an agony of restraint. This lull in the storm 
was more trying than the full fury of the blast. 

203 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


The Governor’s two minutes lengthened into ten. 
Then he hurried back, alone. He was manifestly ill at 
ease, though he spoke glibly enough. 

“I am taking a grave step, signora,” he said, “but 
I feel that the peculiar circumstances warrant it. I 
have released the Baron von Kerber. He is now 
awaiting you, and it will give me much pleasure to 
conduct you to your carriage. Yet I pray you give 
earnest heed to me. I have told him what I now tell 
you — this undertaking of yours must be abandoned. 
Not only is it my duty to prevent it at all costs, but an 
expedition starts for the Five Hills this very night. So, 
you see, you are sure to fail in any case. The exact 
locality is known, and Signor Alfieri has an armed 
escort. I repeat, you have failed. May I hope, 
without being rude, that your love affairs may be more 
prosperous. Charming woman that you are, I cannot 
compliment you on either of your present suitors. 
My advice is, go back to England, and help me to- 
morrow in persuading Signor Fenshawe to let matters 
rest where they are.” 

As one walking in a dream, Mrs. Haxton accom- 
panied Marchetti to the courtyard. There she found 
von Kerber, who ran to meet her. 

“So it is you,” he cried in English. “I guessed it, 
though they would tell me nothing.” 

The Governor was most polite. He would not 
lecture them before natives. 

“ I have spoken as a friend to-night,” he murmured. 
“To-morrow I shall be an official once more.” 

204 


A Woman Intervenes 


The alabeeyah rattled across the paved square 
towards the gateway. Alfieri, on whom an officer 
kept an eye, watched it with malevolence from an upper 
window. 

“ There go two people whom I hate,” he said to his 
guardian. “They have escaped me this time. When 
I am rich, rich as any king in Europe, I shall have a 
king’s power. Then I shall find them and crush them 
utterly.” 

The driver swung his horses towards the sea front. 

“No, no,” cried Mrs. Haxton. “Go through the 
bazaar. Drive slowly.” And, in the next breath, she 
explained to von Kerber: “We must find Abdullah. 
He is somewhere in the main street. Above all things, 
we must find Abdullah. Alfieri leaves Massowah to- 
night, and he is making for the Five Hills. Our only 
hope lies with Abdullah.” 


205 


CHAPTER XII 


STUMP DEPENDS ON OBSERVATION 

After eight hours of dreamless sleep, Irene awoke 
to a torpid but blissful conviction that bed is a most 
comfortable place when bones ache and the slightest 
movement is made irksome by patches of chafed skin. 
In fact, having buried her hands gingerly in the wealth 
of brown hair that streamed over the pillow, she lay 
and watched the white planks of the deck overhead, 
wondering idly what time it was. The effort to guess 
the hour brought her a stage nearer complete con- 
sciousness. Her first precise recollection was also 
pleasant. She thought of the way in which Royson 
had carried her in his arms not so many hours earlier, 
and the memory banished all others for many minutes. 

If she smiled and blushed a little, it may be pleaded 
that she was twenty years of age, and had passed her 
girlhood amidst surroundings from which young men 
eligible to carry young ladies in their arms, or even 
hold them there, were rigorously excluded. Not that 
her grandfather was a misanthrope, but his interests 
were bound up so thoroughly in Egyptian research 
that his friends were, for the most part, elderly savants 
with kindred tastes. The wreck of the Bokhara, too, 
206 


Stump depends on Observation 

with Irene’s father and mother among its passengers, 
had helped to cut him off from the social world. When 
the grief of that tragedy had yielded to the passing 
years he hardly realized that the little child who had 
crept into his affections was growing up into a beautiful 
and light-hearted girl. Quite insensibly she assimi- 
lated herself to his hobbies and studies, became mis- 
tress of his London house and fine estate in Berkshire, 
and, by operation of forces more effective in their 
way than any Puritanical safeguards, lived apart from 
the gay throng in which she was eminently fitted to 
take a leading place. 

Irene offered, then, a somewhat unusual type. 
While other girls might recount the number of male 
hearts they had subdued during the past season, Irene 
could state, with equal accuracy, the names of the gods 
of the Memphite order. Though her grandfather’s 
wealth and the eagerness of a skilled maid compelled 
her to take a passing interest in fashions, she was far 
more devoted to variations in scarabs. Such attain- 
ments, if sedulously pursued during the succeeding 
decade, might have converted her into an alarmingly 
precise Bas Bleu! As it was, the Memphite gods 
smiled on her, and the scarabs might buzz off to their 
museums contentedly at any moment, for Irene was 
only waiting the advent of an undreamed-of influence 
into her life to develop into a tender, sympathetic, 
delightful womanhood. 

Indeed, if Ka and Ra and beetle-headed Khepra 
were so important in the scheme of existence that this 
207 


/■ 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

dainty scientist cared naught for the moth-life of so- 
ciety, why, then, did she blush when she remembered 
how closely Dick Royson had clasped her to his breast 
over-night ? Perhaps she might have asked herself 
that question, only to blush more deeply in trying to 
answer it, had not her thoughts been distracted by the 
extraordinary behavior of a silk underskirt hanging 
on a peg at the foot of the bed. It was swinging to 
and fro with the regularity of a pendulum, and that 
which is regular in a pendulum is fantastically irregular 
in an underskirt. She sat up quickly, and listened. 
There was a swish of water outside. Now and again 
she heard a slight movement of the rudder chains in 
their boxes. Then, all aglow with wonder and excite- 
ment, she jumped out of bed and drew the curtain of 
one of the two tiny portholes that gave light to her 
cabin. 

Yes, another marvel had happened. The yacht was 
speeding along under canvas, — was already far out at 
sea. Where Massowah’s yellow sandspit shone yes- 
terday were now blue wavelets dancing in the sun, and 
Irene was sailor enough to know that the Aphrodite 
was bound south. 

She rang an electric bell, and her maid came. 

“Yes, miss,” said the girl, “we’ve been going since 
midnight. As soon as Mrs. Haxton and Baron von 
Kerber came on board — ” 

“Baron von Kerber, did you say?” broke in Irene 
breathlessly. 

“Yes, miss. He came with Mrs. Haxton. Mind 
208 


Stump depends on Observation 

you, miss, I haven’t seen him, but one of the stewards 
told me that the Baron went straight to Mr. Fen- 
shawe’s cabin, and the order was given to raise the 
anchor immediately. I’m sure they made plenty of 
noise. They woke me up, miss, and I’m a sound 
sleeper.” 

The maid was ready to say more, but Irene had 
learnt to discourage servants’ gossip. 

“ I think the Aphrodite might have fired cannons last 
night without disturbing me,” she declared lightly. 
“ What time is it ? ” 

“Nearly nine o’clock, miss. No one seemed to be 
stirring, so Mr. Gibson put off breakfast for half an 
hour. He said that everybody must be worn out after 
yesterday’s worries.” 

Irene laughed. Gibson, the head steward, a fatherly 
sort of man, was a martinet in the matter of punctuality 
at meals. This adjourning of the breakfast hour was 
a great concession on his part. It showed how stren- 
uous life had been at Massowah. 

Despite her aches and pains, she dressed rapidly. 
She was all agog to learn how von Kerber had regained 
his liberty, and what new development was marked 
by the yacht’s unexpected sailing. When she hurried 
to the bridge for news, the first person she met was 
Royson, and perhaps one of those old deities of Mem- 
phis would have smiled darkly were he privileged to see 
the tell-tale color that leaped to both faces. 

Naturally, the girl was the speedier to find her 
tongue. 


209 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“Good gracious, Mr. Royson,” she said, “what is 
the meaning of this?’’ and a generous hand-sweep 
included sea and sky and distant coastline in the 
eager question. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Captain Stump and 
Mr. Tagg entered into a conspiracy to keep me in 
bed. I have not been on deck five minutes.” 

“But didn’t you ask? Aren’t you consumed with 
curiosity ? Who is in charge of the bridge ? ” 

“Mr. Tagg. His stock of information is limited. 
‘Cleared the islands at four bells; course South-40- 
East’ is practically all he has to say.” 

“It may be, then, that you are good at guessing? 
Have you not heard that the Baron is with us ? ” 

“Yes, Miss Fenshawe, I knew that last night. In- 
deed, I heard his boat hail the watch. I was lying 
awake, and the Baron’s voice is easily recognizable.” 

“Mrs. Haxton seems to have succeeded where all 
else failed. Did you see any of their companions ? 
Was El Jaridiah with them?” 

“No. I plead guilty to opening a port and look- 
ing out. The tide carried the boat close beneath me 
when she was cast loose from the gangway. El 
Jaridiah, or Abdullah, if that is his name, was not 
there.” 

“It is all very mysterious and puzzling,” said Irene, 
gazing at the purple mountains which fringed the 
southwest horizon. “I am sorry we have not been 
able to reward the man, and I had set my heart on 
buying Moti. Don’t you think it was rather wonderful 
210 





^7»- ■; 'J^jj^ ■ " ‘ ^ .i^-‘n, .■ Vli 


_Q ^' 5 *' 



* « 


V.« 5 »| 2 W 



I** •> 


ffPv\;*aR ’.•'-’■5'5®ia ' ’ 

t, .; SJS %;. ..• .'i>?l-x?;,- 



• ^ : ^ 

. ;''-'r,.l ■ ■ 


'* -tt 


It 


'.■^?^^'r*{'. Kv • 

, ii_ fc. ^ f f s '. 


■V.''-: . rfr ; ‘.L .,ri 







# . 


%.* 




- ^s}. . ^ / 




'•WLi 


.' »* 




Ar 

; ^ 





M ' 4 

t « ^ 


n-< 






' . "■?( 

'-ns, - '.A 







He did not dare meet the glance suddenly turned on him 

Page 211 


Stump depends on Observation 

that such a weedy-looking animal should have carried 
us so safely?” 

“It was all very wonderful,” Dick replied, but he did 
not dare to meet the glance suddenly turned on him. 
For some reason. Miss Fenshawe decided to guide 
their talk into a less personal channel. 

“If the breakfast gong does not ring immediately, 
I shall go and hammer on grandad’s door,” she vowed. 
“ He hates being disturbed when he is dressing, but I 
am simply aching to find out what has happened and 
where we are going. And, talking of aches, Mr. 
Royson, look at my poor wrists.” 

She held out both her hands, close together, with the 
palms downwards. Royson noticed instantly she was 
wearing a beautiful marquise ring on the middle finger 
of her left hand. The rules which govern the use of 
these baubles were beyond his ken. A plain gold ring 
on a lady’s so-called fourth finger is a marriage token 
known to all men, but he had not the ghost of an 
idea where an engagement ring should be carried, and 
he jumped to the conclusion that the girl was wearing 
one. Why had he never seen it before, he wondered ? 
Was it a hint, a reminder of the conventions ? It is 
probable that Irene herself would have been surprised 
if she were told that it was once the custom for engaged 
young ladies to reveal their happiness by displaying a 
ring on the middle finger, while those who were free 
but prepared to wed might coyly announce the fact by 
a ring on the index finger. Be that as it may, Royson 
was dumfounded by the sight of the glistening dia- 
211 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

monds. They winked at him evilly, and his tongue 
tripped : 

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” he murmured 
thickly. Irene dropped her hands. 

“Unless you are able to squint, you didn’t look at 
my wrists at all,” she exclaimed. A gong pealed loudly 
from the cabin, and she ran off. Dick made for the 
chart-room, in front of which Tagg was leaning on the 
rail and gazing ahead. 

“You’ve bin quick,” said the chief. “‘Keep her 
steady as she goes, South-40-East, until the ole man 
comes on deck. If the wind drops, call ’im.” 

Then Dick remembered that Tagg had bidden him 
have his breakfast before he came on duty. Royson 
said nothing, but took his station on the bridge. Tagg, 
being lame, preferred to swing himself to the main 
deck, whence he hopped into the small cabin where 
the officers ate their meals. He came back instantly. 

“Wot’s the game?” he inquired sympathetically. 
“You’ve eaten nothin’. Feelin’ bad?” 

“No. Oh, no.” Royson laughed and reddened. 

“Then wot’s wrong? Didn’t you fancy the corfee 
an’ bacon after the high livin’ ashore ? ” 

“The fact is, I met Miss Fenshawe, and she detained 
me a few minutes.” 

“ Is that any reason why you shouldn’t eat ? ” 

“ None whatever. I — er — really — forgot.” 

“Forgot your breakfast! Come orf of it.” 

Tagg climbed up, monkey-like. 

“Take my tip,” he said earnestly. “This is a bad 
212 


Stump depends on Observation 

climate to go hungry in. You’d ’ave a touch of the 
sun in less’n no time. Just go below, an’ force yerself 
to nibble a bit. It’ll do you good, an’ I don’t mind 
keepin’ watch another spell.” 

Royson obeyed in silence. His friend’s kindliness 
supplied an unconscious but necessary tonic to his 
system. Obviously, the second mate of the Aphrodite 
had no business to trouble his head about the symbolism 
of rings worn by Miss Irene Fenshawe. Yet he wished 
he knew which was the engagement finger. 

Shortly before noon Captain Stump came on deck 
to take the sun. This was a semi-religious rite with 
Stump. Though the contours of the coast drawn along 
two sides of the Admiralty chart rendered a solar 
observation quite needless within sight of land, he 
proceeded to ascertain the yacht’s position according 
to the formula, or, at any rate, according to such portion 
of it as applied to his rule-of-thumb calculations. 
Having pricked the chart and written the log. Stump 
bit the end off a cigar. He was ready for a gossip with 
Royson. 

“You won’t find life quite so lively at Aden as at 
Massowah,” he said. 

“ We are bound for Aden, then ? ” 

“Where did you think we was headin’ for? Mel- 
bourne ? ” 

“Well, sir, if I gave any thought to it I inclined 
more to the belief that we were making for our original 
destination.” 

“An’ where was that?” 


213 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“A bay somewhere south of us, not far from Perin.” 

“Have you heard anything fresh?” asked Stump 
quickly. 

“ Not a word. But, if we reach Aden, I suppose the 
expedition will be abandoned.” 

“They’re chewin’ about it now in the saloon,” said 
the skipper, glancing over his shoulder to make sure 
there was no one within earshot. His sailor’s eye 
swept the horizon at the same instant, and he saw a 
smoke-blur some miles astern. Breaking off the con- 
versation abruptly, he went into the chart-house, and 
returned with a telescope, which he balanced against 
a stay. 

“There’s a steamer cornin’ after us in a desprit 
hurry,” he announced, when a prolonged examination 
had enabled him to form an opinion. 

“ After us ? ” repeated Dick. 

“That’s the way I read it. She’s from Massowah. 
The reg’lar channel is fifty miles east. Tell you 
wot, it’s that I-talian gunboat the guv’nor spoke 
about.” 

“But she was not in port when we left.” 

“No. We passed her cornin’ in.” 

“ Ah, she recognized us ? ” 

“Not much. We were under sail, an’ carried no 
masthead light. When I twigged hers I tied a couple 
of sou’westers over our side lights. It’s a good thing 
at sea to mind your own business sometimes, an’, 
more’n that, to take care that other people mind theirs 
when they want to be nasty.” 

214 


Stump depends on Observation 

“Shall we keep on under canvas, sir?” 

“As long as the wind lasts,” said Stump, closing the 
telescope and rolling off towards the saloon. Within a 
minute all hands were on deck. The corporate life of 
a small ship is closely knit. The word had gone round 
that a gunboat was in pursuit, and every one wanted to 
see her. 

Mr. Fenshawe and Baron von Kerber stood apart. 
The older man was visibly annoyed by this new instance 
of Italian interference. Royson, pacing the tiny bridge, 
caught an occasional glimpse of the millionaire’s em- 
phatic gestures. The Austrian was more sallow than 
usual, but that might be the result of his unpleasant 
experiences on the previous day. Irene came to the 
bridge. Though she knew that none except the cap- 
tain might converse with the officer on duty, she whis- 
pered timidly: 

“ They won’t fire at us, Mr. Royson, will they ? ” 

He smiled reassuringly. The tremor in her voice 
was delightful. It made him forget that wretched ring 
for a moment. 

“No, that is not to be feared. Miss Fenshawe. My 
experience of the sea is no greater than your own, but 
you may be sure the Italians will follow the rules. If 
they really wish to overhaul us they will fly a signal 
soon.” 

The warship was traveling sixteen knots an hour, 
the Aphrodite seven, so the chase did not last long. 
About one o’clock the green, white, and red ensign of 
Italy fluttered to the end of the pursuing vessel’s fore- 
215 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


yard, where it could be seen most easily; under it were 
shown the red and white striped code signal, and the 
“J” flag, which latter, in the language of the sea, 
means, “Stop; I have something important to com- 
municate.” 

The British ensign was run up, followed by the 
answering pennant, the mainsail was lowered, the fore- 
sail backed, and the yacht was brought to, while the 
Italian ship, which was made out to be the Cigno, 
came on rapidly. 

Mrs. Haxton approached Stump and whispered in 
his ear. 

“Quite right, m’am,” he nodded. He walked for- 
ward and looked at the crew, mustered in full strength 
in the fore part. 

“Every man, ’cept those on watch, go below,” he 
growled, “an’ mind you keep there, with all ports 
closed, until I ax you to show your ugly mugs on 
deck.” 

They obeyed in sulky silence, though they appre- 
ciated the reason of the order. Hence, when the Cigno 
stopped her panting engines abreast of the Aphrodite, 
there were many more pairs of eyes watching from the 
yacht than the Italian captain reckoned on. 

The warship lowered a boat. Something went wrong 
with the gear, the after block jammed, the boat fell 
and dangled from her davits bows first, and an ofiicer 
and half a dozen men were thrown into the sea. They 
were soon rescued, but the mishap did not tend to 
sweeten the temper of the Cigno^s commander. A dry 
216 


Stump depends on Observation 

officer and crew were requisitioned, and the boat was 
pulled alongside the yacht. 

Stump, with a malicious grin on his face, leaned over 
the starboard rail. 

“Wot is it.^^” he demanded. “Have you lost yer 
bearin’s ? ” 

The officer replied in Italian, greatly to Stump’s 
disgust. 

“I s’pose the chap they chucked overboard was the 
on’y Dago among ’em who could speak English,” he 
grunted, but Mrs. Haxton explained that the officer was 
asking for the gangway to be lowered. Stump nodded 
to a couple of sailors, and the ladder dropped so smartly 
that the boat nearly came to grief a second time. 

The officer bowed very politely when he reached the 
deck. Probably he was surprised to find himself in 
the presence of two such beautiful women. Though 
Irene spoke Italian, Mrs. Haxton took on herself the 
role of interpreter. The Cigno carried two letters from 
the Governor of Massowah, she said. One was ad- 
dressed to Signor Fenshawe, the other to the signor 
captain of the British yacht Aphrodite. Would the 
two gentlemen kindly read and acknowledge receipt of 
the Governor’s epistles ? 

Both were purely formal documents. They set forth 
the official demand that the Aphrodite should not 
attempt to land any of her occupants on Italian territory 
at other than a recognized port, and warned her owner 
and commander that the Cigno would enforce observ- 
ance of the request. 


217 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

At first, Mr. Fenshawe refused angrily to give a 
written reply, but von Kerber prevailed on him, and 
he wrote: 

“ Mr. Hiram Fenshawe begs to inform the Governor 
of Erythrea that his prohibition of the landing of a 
British scientific expedition in the colony he rules is 
arbitrary and unwarranted. Mr. Hiram Fenshawe is 
further of opinion that the said prohibition is part of 
the lawless treatment to which he and other members 
of the yacht’s company were subjected during their 
visit to the ‘ recognized port ’ of Massowah. Finally, 
Mr. Hiram Fenshawe intends to lay the whole matter 
before the British Foreign Office.” 

This stiff-necked answer showed clearly that the 
writer was still on von Kerber’s side, no matter what 
revelations w’ere contained in the letter from London 
which Royson knew of. Irene copied the note for her 
grandfather. She made no comment. . Perhaps her 
own island blood was a-boil at the cavalier tone of the 
Governor’s threat. 

Stump’s letter was characteristic. It ran: 

“S. Y. Aphrodite, 

“Lat. 15° 10' N., Long. 41° 15' E. 

“Sir — Yours at hand. Will act as think fit. 

“Yours truly, 

“John Stump, Master"^ 

The disagreeable part of this business ended, the 
Italian officer conveyed the compliments of the Cigno^s 
commander, and, on his behalf, invited Signor Fen- 
shawe and the two ladies to luncheon. Mr. Fenshawe 
218 


Stump depends on Observation 

stiffly declined, on the plea that he did not wish to 
interrupt the voyage, and the envoy went back to his 
ship. 

The Aphrodite swung round into the wind, dipped 
her ensign, and was soon bowling along at her usual 
rate. The Cigno stood away for the coast, but, as the 
day wore, it was palpable that she did not mean to 
part company with the yacht until the Straits of Bab- 
el-mandeb were passed. 

About four o’clock the wind dropped and the engines 
were called on. With the night the wind rose again 
but veered to the south. The Cignds lights were 
clearly visible at about three miles’ distance. Her 
white masthead light watched the Aphrodite without 
blinking, while her red and green eyes suggested to 
Irene’s fancy some fabled monster of the deep waiting 
to pounce on the yacht if she deviated an inch from 
her seaward course. 

The girl snatched a few minutes’ talk with Royson. 
Von Kerber, it seemed, had persuaded her grandfather 
that Alfieri was the paid agent of rival archeologists 
who had got wind of the Sabaean hoard, and were able 
to secure the help of the Italian Government. She was 
convinced that the ill treatment meted out to them at 
Massowah had only confirmed the old gentleman’s de- 
termination to best his opponents at all costs. The 
burking of his cablegrams, made known by the Baron, 
was the last straw in an aggravated load. The yacht 
was going to Aden to enable him to lodge a complaint 
with the proper authorities, but she would leave almost 
219 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


at once for French Somaliland, where a kafila would be 
collected and a dash made across the Italian frontier. 
And Dick gathered that Irene herself was inclined to let 
affairs run their natural course. He agreed with her, 
which was to be expected, seeing that he was four-and 
twenty, and in love. He cudgeled his brains for some 
pretext to discuss rings and the manner of wearing them, 
but his wit failed him there. Irene on the deck of her 
grandfather’s yacht differed in several important par- 
ticulars from the tremulous girl who clung to him during 
that blissful journey of the previous night. 

He tried to clear up this vital point with Tagg. 

“Did you ever give a young lady an engagement 
ring ? ” he asked, after judiciously leading his chief to 
discourse on the frailties of the sex. 

“ Well,” said Tagg reflectively, “ it all depen’s on the 
way you take it. I once gev’ a girl a Mizpah ring, 
which she fancied when she saw’r it in a pawnshop 
window. Next time I met her she tole me she’d 
swopped it for a dress improver. The feller she was 
goin’ to marry didn’t like the motter as cornin’ from 
me, you see, but the funny thing was she never said a 
word about him when she saw’r me buy in’ the ring. 
Since then, I’ve kep’ me money in me pocket.” 

Roy son took the morning watch, from 4 a.m. till 8. 
Stump joined him soon after dawn, and appeared to 
be anxious about the yacht’s exact position. So far as 
Dick could judge from the chart, they were in safe 
waters; nevertheless, the stout skipper did not rest 
content until the tall peak of Jebel Aduali opened up 
220 


Stump depends on Observation 

clear of Jebel Ash Ali, with Sanahbor Island bearing 
west. 

A lighthouse on the mainland flashed a bright ray 
at them before the rising sun rendered its warning 
unnecessary. Still dogging them, the Cigno followed 
in their wake at half speed, but Stump gave no eye to 
the warship. He continued to scan the coast intently. 
A low, double-peaked hill intervened between the lofty 
Jebel Aduali and the ship. When its saddle cut the 
summit of the more distant mountain. Stump changed 
the course sharply. 

To Roy son’s surprise, the yacht turned due west, and 
headed for the point whence the lighthouse had gleamed 
half an hour earlier. 

And now, instead of looking ahead. Stump kept his 
telescope glued on the Cigno. A cloud of smoke from 
the gunboat’s funnels showed that she had noted the 
A'phrodite^ s new direction, and meant to take a close 
interest in it. She had a few miles to make up, but 
that was a simple matter, and her nose swung to the 
southwest as she raced for the bay towards which the 
yacht was steaming. 

Both vessels held on, following converging lines, for 
nearly an hour. By that time they were hardly a mile 
apart. Suddenly Stump sent the Aphrodite round until 
she lay on her previous course. In a word, after 
standing in for the land in the most decided manner, 
he was now making for the Straits again. 

This behavior apparently puzzled the Italian vessel, 
as, indeed, it succeeded in puzzling Royson and the 
221 


The Wheel d* Fortune 

man at the wheel, while the looks cast towards the 
bridge by the watch, who were mainly employed in 
swabbing the deck, told that the men were commenting 
on the yacht’s erratic wanderings. 

All at once the blare of a siren came faintly over the 
shimmering sea, and Stump chuckled triumphantly. 

“He’s found it,” he roared, his voice almost rivaling 
the hoarseness of the far-off foghorn. “ Sink me if that 
Dago wasn’t so taken up with pipin’ my antics that he’s 
gone an’ done it!” 

“Done what, sir.^” asked Dick, seeing that his 
respected skipper was in hilarious mood. 

“Run his bloomin’ Cigno onto the Scilla Shoal. 
Damme, I thought he’d do it. Listen to him,” for 
another wail reached them from the disconsolate war- 
ship. “He’s fixed there as though he was glued to it. 
He’ll have to jettison all his bunker an’ a gun or two 
afore he gets off. They tell me Cigno means ‘swan.’ 
I wonder wot’s the I-talian for ‘goose.’ Go an’ tell 
Tagg. Tell him to tumble up quick, if on’y for the 
sake of ole times.” 

Royson aroused the chief, and gave him the skipper’s 
message. Tagg, rubbing his eyes, came on deck. He 
looked at the Cigno ^ heard her dismal trumpeting, and 
slowly took in the surroundings. 

“ Well, s’elp me ! ” he grinned. “ Sorry to rake cold 
ashes, cap’n, but isn’t that where you piled up the 
Ocean Queen ? ” 

“Don't I know it!” growled Stump. “One solid 
month we stuck there, didn’t we, Tagg ? Threw over- 
222 


Stump depends cm Observation 

board two thousand tons o’ best Cardiff, an’ then had 
to be hauled off by another tramp. Well, good-by. 
Swan! I’ll report you at Perim. An’ mind you take 
care o’ them letters. It ’ud be a pity if the Governor 
didn’t ’ave ’em in time. By gad, I never thought I’d 
owe the Ocean Queen a good turn. She lost me my 
berth, an’ nearly cost me my ticket, but she’s made it 
up to-day. Come on, Tagg, we’ll have a tot o’ rum 
an’ drink to the rotten ole hulk which gev’ us best 
ag’in that swaggerin’ I-talian. My godfather, won’t 
Becky be pleased when she hears of it!” 

And the two dived below to partake of the generous 
spirit which pays homage to the rising sun, while the 
Cigna bleated her distress to deaf ears. 


223 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 

“ There is a spice of the nomad in all of us,” said 
Irene, pulling up her hardy Somali pony and allowing 
him to graze on some prickly plant from which a grass- 
fed animal would have turned in hungry disgust. 
“Here am I, quite new to desert life, enjoying it to 
the full. Perhaps my remote ancestors were gipsies. 
Do I look like a gipsy, Mr. Royson ? ” 

“ My acquaintance with gipsies is limited,” said Dick. 
“Once, being free from office troubles on Derby Day, 
I walked over Epsom Downs, and was beseeched many 
times to have my fortune told. Most of the prophet- 
esses — they were all of your sex. Miss Fenshawe — 
were blessed with exceedingly fine complexions and 
beautiful eyes. If these are marked features of the 
gipsy tribe — ” 

“ Don’t you dare bring me out here in order to pay 
compliments.” 

“Indeed, I am but stating the bare truth to your 
face.” 

“ If you persist, then, I shall be compelled to act the 
part of a gipsy and tell your fortune, and I warn you 
that it will not be very cheerful hearing.” 

224 


The Sign in the Sky 

Royson gazed beyond her towards a white mist which 
shrouded the eastern horizon. Overhead, the delicious 
blue of early morning was yielding to the noonday tint 
of molten copper. 

“ Even if we turn back to-day there are thirty 
marches between us and the sea,” he said with seeming 
irrelevance. 

But those two were beginning to understand one 
another, and the girl colored under the deep tan of 
sun and air. 

“Whenever we are alone now you insist on talking 
nonsense,” she said. “I really believe the desert has 
made you light-headed. Please be serious for a mo- 
ment. I brought you here to — ” 

“ I am glad you have corrected yourself. A moment 
ago you charged me with bringing you here.” 

“ Well, then, we came here, if one must be so accurate, 
to be away fropa the others. At least, I mean — Well, 
that is a stupid Tvay of putting it, but it will serve — ” 

“ It has served most admirably,” said Royson, glan- 
cing back at the long drawn-out caravan crossing the 
shallow valley they had just quitted. 

“ There you go again,” she cried, with just a touch of 
petulance in her tone. “You know very well that I 
did not mean what I said.” 

“ Not even when you promised to tell my fortune.” 

“I can explain myself that way if you like. Your 
fortune is singularly like my own at the present mo- 
ment. You are accompanying a crowd of people who 
don’t know where they are going, or what they mean 
225 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


to do when they get there. I am quite sure the Baron 
is befogged, or, if that is not a happy expression in this 
wonderful atmosphere, shall I say lost ? I don’t speak 
Arabic, but I can read that man’s face, and I watched 
him this morning when he was consulting our so-called 
guide. In plain English, Mr. Royson, we are drifting, 
in the vain hope that somewhere out there we shall 
find five hills in a clump. I don’t object, in a sense. 
It is a very delightful picnic from one point of view. 
But I hate uncertainty, and I loathe deceit, and here 
we are at the mercy of both, while my grandfather is 
so taken up with the joy of arranging everything, which 
von Kerber very cleverly leaves to him, that he simply 
won’t listen to me when I suggest the need of more 
definite information. And just think of it ! Five Hills! 
With a rocky desert in front and five thousand hills to 
the left. What is to be the end of it all.? Are we to 
go wandering on till we march into Suez, or Cairo ? ” 

“ Our sheikh is a marvel at finding oases,” said Dick. 
“I wonder if there is a string of them all the way 
between here and — ” 

“Mr. Royson,” broke in Irene, “you are the only 
person to whom I can confide my doubts and fears. 
They may be silly, but please don’t adopt that tone. 
It — hurts.” 

Royson, who had dismounted, slipped his Arab’s 
bridle under an arm and strode a pace nearer. 

“ Don’t you see that we can do nothing at present ? ” 
he said earnestly. “ I am alive to the difficulties which 
may beset us in the near future; but what would you 
226 


The Sign in the Sky 

have me do, Miss Fenshawe? If your grandfather 
were not of the party, I know exactly what I would 
propose — at least, I think I know.” 

“And that is?” 

“That Stump and some of our men should escort 
you and Mrs. Haxton back to Pajura, and let our 
Austrian friend ride his hobby to death. And believe 
me, I am not consulting my own wishes in saying that.” 

“ Don’t you wish to return ? ” 

“No. I love this arid land. I never see the super- 
cilious curl of a camel’s lip or meet the bland contempt 
of his eye but I imagine him saying, ‘Ah, Feringhi, 
were it not for your white skin I might whisper strange 
secrets into your ear, but you are an unbelieving dog, 
so perforce I remain dumb.’ Plence, Miss Fenshawe, 
inclination pulls one way and common sense the other. 
As matters stand, I plead guilty to a profound gladness 
that common sense has not swayed us to-day, and may 
escape us to-morrow. Candidly, I am enjoying myself 
immensely.” 

“ Then there is nothing more to be said,” cried Irene, 
yielding somewhat to his buoyancy. “ Shall we go on, 
or wait here for the Jcafila to overtake us.” 

“Unless I am greatly mistaken,” said Dick, looking 
at his watch, “we shall find the usual oasis hidden in 
a depression about two miles ahead. Our excellent 
sheikh, Abdur Kad’r, times the morning march to end 
precisely at ten o’clock. It is now a quarter to nine. 
Our camels march two and a half miles per hour, and 
we are three quarters of a mile ahead. Therein, Miss 

m 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Fenshawe, you have a first-rate example of deductive 
reasoning, so I propose that we advance steadily, and 
look for a cluster of palms. If, happily, their shade is 
not taken up by other wanderers, you will be out of 
the sun long before the caravan arrives. What say 
you ? ” 

‘‘Some day I shall stamp my foot and say ‘No’ — 
shriek it at you, in fact. I hate any one who is always 
right, and you seem to be utterly different since we 
left the A'phrodite. I have never seen such a change 
in a man. One would think you were born in the 
desert. And you are learning Arabic ten times more 
quickly than I.” 

“I do not find favor in your eyes this morning, 
though it is good to know that I have reformed, since, 
by your own showing, I must have been always wrong 
aboard ship,” said Dick, remounting. 

“ Oh, it is a perfect luxury to have some one to pitch 
into,” cried the girl, stirring the Somali with her heel. 

“ But won’t you tell me what I have done that vexes 
you. Miss Fenshawe?” 

“ You are absurd. You pretend that you see nothing, 
whereas I am sure you see more than I, but you refuse 
to speak.” 

Royson seemed to be singularly unaffected by this 
outburst. He caught the angry flush on the girl’s 
forehead, and, as was his way when the stubborn fit 
seized him, threw his head back, with lips set. Irene 
stole a look at him, and laughed constrainedly. 

“Very well. If you won’t talk I must,” she said, 
228 


-i 


The Sign in the Sky 

with a great air of determination. “It is about Mrs. 
Haxton.” 

“A most interesting topic,” said Royson. 

“ That is what my grandfather seems to think.” 

“He told me last night that he considers her a 
singularly well-informed woman.” 

“For well-informed read artful,” exclaimed the girl 
bitterly. “Have you forgotten what I said to you in 
the canal ? When we began our voyage Mrs. Haxton 
and the Baron were as good as engaged. Now they 
have reached some agreement which permits Mrs. 
Haxton to fly for higher matrimonial game than a 
penniless adventurer.” 

“ Do you really think that ? ” 

Royson had grown suddenly serious. He half turned 
in the saddle so as to seek the added inspiration of 
Irene’s expression, but she kept her eyes studiously 
averted, and the broad-brimmed pith hat she wore 
helped to conceal her face. But she answered readily. 

“ I am quite certain of it. How else could I discuss 
it with you ? ” 

“The view I take is that she merely wishes to give 
von Kerber every chance. So long as Mr. Fenshawe 
remains interested — beguiled, if you like — she 
switches his thoughts away from the object of our 
journey. Your grandfather is a masterful man. Miss 
Fenshawe. If he suspected that we were following a 
wild-goose chase he would turn south again this very 
hour.” 

“Yet I am sure of my ground,” she persisted. 

229 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Royson’s horse started and shied. A small brown 
snake, coiled up in the sunlight, and almost invisible 
amidst the stones, squirmed rapidly into a crevice be- 
neath a rock. Such incidents in the desert were too 
frequent to demand comment. Dick patted the Arab’s 
neck and soon soothed him. 

“ Failing our discovery of this fabled treasure, I can 
appreciate Mrs. Haxton’s willingness to marry a mil- 
lionaire,” he went on. “Yet there are difficulties in 
the way. That viper reminds me of one. Would not 
von Kerber object ? ” 

“No,” said Irene. 

They jogged along in silence for some distance. 
The girl added nothing to her emphatic monosyllable. 
Dick felt a tugging at his heart-strings which was 
becoming a dangerously frequent symptom. 

“As you have favored me with your confidence thus 
far, won’t you take the next step, and tell me why you 
credit Baron von Kerber with such complaisance?” 
he demanded. 

“A woman should not always be asked for reasons, 
Mr. Royson,” said she lightly. 

“In the graver events of life one wishes for them, 
nevertheless.” 

“ Perhaps we are deviating from the chief issue,” she 
countered. “If only I could persuade grandad that 
he is being wilfully misled, things might go as I wish. 
Can’t you help, Mr. Royson ? ” 

Then she turned her face to his, and the temptation 
that had gripped him many a time of late came back 
230 


The Sign in the Sky 

with an intensity that was almost unendurable. He 
did not flinch from her steadfast eyes. Though the 
path of honor was steep and straight he must tread it 
to the end. 

“If I tell your grandfather what little I know of 
these people I break my word,” he said harshly. “ That 
is the only reply I can make. Miss Fenshawe. May I 
add the ignoble argument that any such breach of 
faith on my part would probably be useless? You 
ought to sympathize with me.” 

“ Why ? ” she said coldly. 

“Because it is not often that a man is tortured as I 
am by a conflict between duty and — and desire.” 

“There is our palm grove,” she cried, pointing to a 
few stunted trees whose fronds showed above the 
rock-strewn bank of a small wady, or ravine, which 
cut through the center of the shelving plateau they 
were crossing. “ The ground is fairly clear here. 
Shall we try a canter ? ” 

Without waiting for a reply she pressed her pony 
into a steady gallop. Royson responded to her way- 
ward mood, and followed her lead. Though the sun 
was so hot that their hands would have blistered if 
unprotected by gloves, the clean, dry air-current created 
by the rapid motion was exhilarating in the extreme. 
They were riding through a lost continent, yet its 
savage ruin was sublimely beautiful. The compara- 
tively level spot that allowed the luxury of a gallop 
was made up of sand and stones, with here and there 
a black rock thrusting its bold contour above the 
231 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


shingle. A curiously habitable aspect was given to 
the desert by numbers of irregular alluvial mounds 
which, on examination, were found to consist of caked 
soil held together by the roots of trees. So, at one 
time, this arid plain had borne a forest. To the 
mind’s eye, here lay the dead earth’s burial-place. 

Ages ago a torrent had fertilized the surrounding 
tract, and its dried-up bed was marked by water- 
smoothed boulders. Here and there, small groups of 
dwarf bushes, covered with dagger-like thorns, drew 
sustenance from secret rills of moisture. The camel 
path they followed had the distinctness of daily use, 
though no recognized kafila had passed that way 
during the previous year, new trade routes to the 
interior having drawn the caravans in other directions. 
Soon it turned up the side of the ravine. The sayall 
bushes began to grow more densely, and the wady 
spread to a great width. Beyond a patch of pebbles 
lay a brown carpet of tough grass. In the center stood 
seven date-trees and a considerable number of stunted 
bushes, these latter differing from the sayall only in 
the size of their thorns, which were fully two inches 
long and seemingly untouchable. Yet, next to water, 
the thom-crop constituted the chief wealth of the oasis, 
because camels would munch the tough spines with 
great relish. 

The camping-place appeared to be untenanted. 
Royson found the footprints of gazelles wherever the 
sand had collected in a hollow, but the animals must 
have scampered away unseen towards the barren hills 
232 


The Sign in the Sky 

near at hand. Through an occasional gap there were 
glimpses of the mighty ramparts of Abyssinia. It was 
hard to realize that the dainty gazelle could find food 
in this desolate land. Yet, with the inborn instinct of 
the hunter and scout, Royson unslung his carbine and 
held it across the saddle-bow as he urged his horse 
slightly in front of the short-striding Somali. When 
he drew rein he rose in the stirrups to peer through the 
barrier of thorns. 

“First come, first served,” he cried joyously. “We 
have the forage to ourselves. Miss Fenshawe. I shall 
be sorry for any others who come this way after our 
host has passed. Look at it now. It is an absolute 
army. We shall strip this poor little garden of the 
desert as locusts are said to eat up a cornfield.” 

Irene slipped from the saddle, loosened the girths, 
and then glanced at the distant caravan, which had 
just become visible again on the sky-line of the plateau. 
It was more than likely that no such mixed gathering 
of men and animals had taken that road since the 
destruction of forests converted the country into a 
wilderness. The party from the yacht numbered eigh- 
teen; there were fifty Bedawi Arabs in attendance on 
a hundred camels; eight horses, Arabs or Somali 
ponies, each required a syce, while the sheikh who 
had brought the caravan from Pajura was overlord of 
a score of hangers-on who figured in his list as 
servants. 

A thin haze of dust rose as this regiment advanced. 
In that wonderful light its progress might be marked 
233 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


twenty miles away by keen eyes. The girl watched it 
silently for a time, while Royson, knowing the manner 
in which the camp would be formed, picketed the two 
horses so as not to interfere with the general arrange- 
ments. 

Then he lit a cigarette and rejoined Irene. 

“How far distant is the head of the caravan now?” 
she asked. 

“ Nearly two miles. It looks more like two furlongs,” 
said he, divining her thought, for it was easy to discern 
Mrs. Haxton, wrapped in a gray dust-cloak, on a 
splendid riding camel in advance of the main body; 
beside her, on Arab horses, were Mr. Fenshawe and 
von Kerber, the latter having just ridden up from the 
rear. 

“Does one’s sight become better, then, by residence 
in this strange land?” murmured the girl. 

Royson deliberately ignored the less obvious signifi- 
cance of the words. 

“I think so,” he said. “When all is said and done, 
desert and sea are akin, and most certainly a sea 
voyage benefits the eyes. Yet, now that you mention 
it, the atmosphere is remarkably clear to-day.” 

“Are you weather-wise, Mr. Royson? Is not that 
a sign of storm ? ” 

“I sought instruction from Sheikh Abdur Kad’r on 
that very point only this morning. He says that the 
Kamsin does not blow at this season, and there is every 
reason to believe that it has not rained in this locality 
during the past three hundred years.” 

234 


4 


The Sign in the Sky 

“ Dear me ! Three — hun-dred — years ! ” 

“Yes. Sorry, but I can’t make it any less.” 

^*Then you may give Sheikh Abdur Kad’r my com- 
pliments and tell him I predict either a thunderstorm 
or some unusual disturbance before night. Mrs. 
Haxton has a very effective smile, I admit, but it 
requires exceptional charm to make a smile distinctly 
visible at — how far did you say ? — two miles ? ” 

The lady in question was certainly bending towards 
Mr. Fenshawe, and the smile was a reasonable con- 
jecture. But they had tacitly agreed to forget their 
earlier conversation. They chatted freely now with 
the friendly ease that was their wont ever since the 
exigencies of camp life had thrown them together far 
more than was possible on board ship. Five weeks 
ago the Aphrodite dropped anchor off Pajura after 
crossing from Aden, where Mr. Fenshawe had de- 
spatched his cablegrams and obtained a portion of the 
equipment needed for the desert tour. The arrival of 
such a large party occasioned no little excitement at the 
French port. That tiny station had not seen so many 
white faces at one time since its establishment, and, 
when its polite Commandant recovered from his voluble 
surprise, he warned Mr. Fenshawe that the interior was 
somewhat unsafe. But stories of Arab unrest were 
familiar to the veteran. He had heard them regularly 
during the preceding thirty years, and he was more 
than ever bent on outwitting the jealous rivals who 
had placed such obstacles in his path. 

The French officers at Pajura thought he was rather 
235 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


cracked to take ladies with him, yet they were obliged 
to admit that desert travel was healthy and enjoyable, 
provided supplies were ample, and, on this score, the 
skilled explorer of Soudan by-ways showed that he had 
lost none of his cunning. Before the caravan started 
news came from Aden that the Cigno had been dragged 
olf her sandspit. This gave an added value to the 
land route, as the coast of Erythrea was assuredly 
closed to them; the French authorities, on the other 
hand, rendered every assistance in their power. 

And now, after a month of steady marching, the 
caravan was well within Italian territory. The route 
lay parallel with the sea, but nearly a hundred miles 
distant from it. It traversed the interminable wadys 
and shelving table-lands leading down to the coast 
from the granite and pink Nubian stone foothills of 
the inner range of giants which guarded the fertile 
valleys of Abyssinia. Thus far, no unexpected difficul- 
ties had cropped up. The few nomads encountered 
were only too anxious to be friendly. The weather, 
scorching by day and intensely cold by night, was 
quite bearable. Indeed, to any one in good health, it 
supplied a marvelous tonic. Travelers less admirably 
equipped might have suffered annoyance from the 
snakes and scorpions which seem to thrive in the 
midst of sunburnt desolation, but these voyageurs de 
luxe slept in hammocks slung in roomy tents, and 
assiduous servants dislodged every stone before they 
spread the felt carpets on which the heaven-born 
deigned to sit at meals. 


236 


The Sign in the Sky 

Yet — as Irene had guessed correctly — this mag- 
nificent progress through the desert contained a canker 
that threatened its destruction. Either von Kerber’s 
calculations were at fault, or the papyrus was a mad- 
man’s screed. The caravan was already two marches 
beyond the point agreed on by every authority con- 
sulted as that fixed by the Greek who survived the 
massacre of the Roman legion. The unhappy Austrian 
could no more identify the Five Hills mentioned in the 
papyrus as the essential clue to the whereabouts of the 
treasure than a man in an unknown forest can dis- 
tinguish a special group of five trees. That is to say, 
he may blunder on them by chance, but he cannot 
find them by using his judgment. As Irene put it, 
here were not five, but five thousand hills. The mortal 
puzzle before von Kerber was to pick his five. 

When the caravan arrived at the halting-place the 
tense solitude gave way to pandemonium. Camels 
grunted and squealed in eager plaint to be relieved of 
their loads, horses neighed and fought for the best 
tufts of grass, men raged at each other as though the 
work of preparing the camp were something new and 
wholly unexpected. 

Through the turmoil strode Abdur Kad’r, a lean, 
saturnine Arab, who anathematized all his assistants 
indiscriminately, only varying his epithets according 
to the nationality of the man under the lash of his 
tongue at the moment. 

“Bestir yourself, illegitimate one. Are we to await 
the setting sun ere the tents are fixed ? ” he shouted at 
237 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


a negro who was bothered by a knotted rope. A crash 
behind him told that a too-zealous Arab had tumbled 
a box to the ground. 

“ Oh, you owl, what evil have you done ? ” roared the 
Sheikh, transfixing the culprit with a glittering eye. 

“Lo, I loosened a strap, honored one, and the 
accursed thing fell,” was the explanation. 

“ It fell, eh ? So shall my whip fall, Sidi Hassan, if 
thou art not more painstaking.” He rushed towards 
a group of Somali syces. 

“Pigs, and children of pigs,” he cried, “for what 
does the Effendi pay ye? Is there not occupation, ye 
black dogs ? May your fathers’ graves be defiled by 
curs ! ” 

Stump, whose rubicund visage was burnt brick-red 
by the desert, took a keen interest in Abdur Kad’r’s 
daily outpourings. He had no Arabic, but he appre- 
icated the speaker’s fluency. 

“He’d make a bully good bo’s’n,” was his favorite 
comment, and he would add sorrowfully, “I wish I 
knew wot he was sayin’. It ’ud do me a treat.” 

In an astonishingly short space of time the camp 
would be in form, fires lit with parched shrubs gathered 
during the last stage of the journey, a meal cooked, 
and every one settled down to rest until sunset, when, 
if there was no evening march, the Arabs and negroes 
would sing, and perhaps indulge in amazingly realistic 
sword-play, while the dozen sailors brought from the 
yacht would watch the combatants or engage in a 
sing-song on their own account. 

238 


The Sign in the Sky 

The present encampment offered no exception to 
the general rule. Abdur Kad’r, it is true, may have 
raged a little more extensively than usual when it was 
discovered that the well had caved in from sheer disuse, 
and several hours’ labor would be necessary before 
some brackish water could be obtained. He did not 
trouble the Effendi with this detail, however. There 
was another more pressing matter to be dealt with, 
but, Allah be praised, that might wait till a less occupied 
hour, for the Frank was in no hurry, and he paid like 
a Kaliph. 

About four o’clock Irene was sitting in her tent 
making some belated jottings in a diary. Being thirsty, 
she called a servant, and told him to bring a bottle of 
soda-water. A few minutes later she heard a stumble, 
a crash, and a loud exclamation in Arabic. The man 
had fallen over one of the heavy stones to which the 
guy-ropes were fastened. 

She looked up smilingly, and wondered whether he 
would understand her if she said in French that she 
hoped he had not injured himself. The glass was 
broken, but the bottle was intact, for the native had 
caught it as he fell. 

“^a ne fait rien,” she cried encouragingly. Then 
she found that the Somali had risen to his knees, and 
was gazing skyward with every token of abject terror. 
At the same instant a strange commotion broke out in 
the camp. Through the open side of the tent she saw 
Europeans and natives all looking in the one direction 
— northwards. The Britons and Arabs had an air of 
239 


The Wheel o' Fortune 


profound astonishment. They pointed and gesticu- 
lated, but otherwise showed self-control. But the 
negroes were in a panic. For the most part they were 
kneeling. A few prostrated themselves at full length, 
and howled dolorously. 

The girl was alone, and she naturally felt alarmed. 
Royson was not far away, and he, like the rest, was 
held spellbound by some spectacle the nature of which 
she could not guess. Perhaps his thoughts were not 
far removed from Irene, because he turned and looked 
at her. 

“ Come quickly. Miss Fenshawe,’’ he shouted. “ Here 
is the most wonderful mirage!” 

Was that it — a mirage ? Why, then, this hubbub ? 
She had grown so accustomed to the grim humor of 
the desert in depicting clear streams of running water, 
smooth, tree-bordered lakes, and other delightful objects 
of which the arid land dreamed in its sleep of death, 
that the excitement caused in the camp was wholly 
inexplicable. 

“What are you doing there she cried sharply to 
the frightened servant. “Go and get another glass, 
and take care you do not fall next time.” 

If he heard he paid no heed. He continued to stare 
at the sky with wide-open eyes. 

Conscious of a fresh thrill of fear, she ran towards 
Royson. 

“ What in the world — ” 

Then she saw, and was stricken dumb with the sight, 
for she was looking at a spectacle which the desert 
240 


The Sign in the Sky 

seldom provides even to those who pass their lives 
within its bounds. A thin haze had taken the place of 
the remarkable clearness of the morning hours. Away 
to the north it had deepened almost into a fog, a low- 
lying and luminous mist like the white pall which 
often shrouds the sea on a calm bright day in summer. 
The sky was losing its burnished copper hue and 
becoming blue again, and, on the false horizon supplied 
by the crest of the fog-bank, stood a brilliantly vivid 
panorama. 

There were military tents, lines of picketed camels 
and horses, a great number of Arabs and blacks, and 
some fifty Italian soldiers, all magnified to gigantic 
proportions, but so clearly defined that the trappings 
of the animals, the military uniforms, and the gay- 
colored burnous of the Arabs were readily distinguish- 
able. 

It could be seen, too, that they were working. 
Mounds of rock and earth showed that considerable 
excavations had been made. While those gathered 
round the well were yet gazing at this bewildering and 
lifelike picture, the moving ghosts in the sky under- 
went a change which enhanced their realism. One 
squad of soldiers and natives marched off towards the 
tents while another took their places. Were it not for 
the grotesque size of men and animals and the eerie 
silence of their movements it was hard to believe that 
the eyes were not witnessing actualities. The thing 
was fantastic, awe-inspiring, stupendous in design, but 
faultlessly true in color and treatment. No artist could 
241 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


ever hope for such a canvas. Its texture was vapor, 
its background the empyrean, and nature’s own palette 
supplied the colors. 

And this cloud scene was pitiless in its moral. Two 
of the onlookers, Mrs. Haxton and von Kerber, knew 
exactly what it meant, while others read its message 
correctly enough. The expedition was forestalled. 
The long voyage and longer march, the vast expenditure, 
the hardships inseparable from the journey through 
the desert, the hopes, the fears, all the planning and 
contriving, went for nothing, since Alfieri the dreamer, 
Alfieri the fool, had apparently succeeded in locating 
the treasure of Sheba. 


242 


CHAPTER XIV 


WHEREIN A BISHARIN CAMEL BECOMES USEFUL 

To the Arab every white man is a Frank. The 
European invader was given that name during the 
First Crusade, and the Paynim does not change appre- 
ciably with the centuries. But he has learnt to differ- 
entiate between certain varieties of Frank, and Abdur 
Kad’r murmured maledictions on the Italian species 
as he watched the mirage slowly fading into nothing- 
ness. Though no one had told him the ultimate 
objective of the caravan, he felt that the presence of 
Italian soldiers at the nearest stopping-place put a bar 
to further progress. The mere fact that the kafila 
came from French territory was unanswerable There 
were difficulties enough already, difficulties which must 
be discussed that evening, but this obstacle was wholly 
unforeseen. 

Under his bent brows the gaunt sheikh had noted 
Mr. Fenshawe’s manner when he turned excitedly to 
demand an explanation from von Kerber. The 
Effendi’s change of tone told its own tale. Abdur 
Kad’r, true believer and desert-bom, remarked to a 
brother Arab that Allah was Allah and Mahomet was 
undoubtedly the Prophet, but that of all the misbe- 
243 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

gotten produce of swine now cumbering the earth the 
Italians ranked easily first — or words to that effect. 
Then he relieved his feelings by objurgating the panic- 
stricken Somalis, whose superstitious minds interpreted 
the appearance of the air-borne host as a sure indication 
of war. He was in the midst of an eloquent outburst 
when his employer summoned him. 

“ How far is it to the next oasis ? ” came the dreaded 
query. 

Abdur Kad’r, shrewd judge of men, knew that he 
must be explicit. 

“Sixty kilometers, honored one,” he replied. 

“ What ! Nearly forty English miles ? ” 

“It may be so, Effendi. In our reckoning it is 
twenty kos, and one kos is three kilometers.” 

“ But these Italians — in the mirage — they must be 
camped near water?” 

“There is none nearer than the Well of Suleiman, 
Effendi.” 

“Is it possible that a mirage would reveal so clearly 
a scene taking place at such a distance ? ” 

“Strange things happen in the desert, Effendi. I 
have seen a village in the sky which my camels were 
four hours in reaching, and I have been told of sights 
even more wonderful.” 

“ You are sure about the sixty kilometers ? ” 

“Quite sure, O worthy of honor.” 

Mr. Fenshawe was skeptical. Mirage-phenomena 
were familiar to him, but never had they dealt with 
natural objects beyond a range of a few miles. For 
244 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

the most part, the mirage of the desert is a baseless 
illusion, depending on the bending of light-rays by air 
strata of differing densities. The rarer “looming,*' 
witnessed occasionally in more northerly latitudes, 
shows scenes actually in existence, and the best authen- 
ticated instance of a long-range view is that testified 
to by the inhabitants of Hastings, who during three 
hours on July 26, 1798, saw the whole coastline of 
France, from Calais to Dieppe, with a distinctness that 
was then regarded as miraculous. 

But, whether Abdur Kad’r’s figures were correct or 
not, there was no gainsaying the evidence of the mirage 
itself. The collapse of the undertaking was imminent, 
and the millionaire’s tone was exceedingly curt when he 
called von Kerber to conference. 

“There are certain matters which must be cleared 
up, now that nature has assumed the role of guide,” 
he said dryly. “I have been well aware during the 
past few days that you were not able to fix on the exact 
place described in the papyrus. I could pardon that. 
We are in a country where landmarks are bewilderingly 
alike, and therefore apt to cause confusion. But how 
comes it that our rivals can go straight to the place 
we are in search of, while we wander blindly in the 
desert ? You assured me that yours was the only copy 
of the papyrus extant with the sole exception of the 
photographic reproductions supplied to me. Is that 
true ? And, if it is true, who gave these others the in- 
formation that has brought about our failure?” 

Mr. Fenshawe’s pride was wounded. All the wrath 
245 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


of the disappointed connoisseur welled forth in his 
contemptuous words. Their very calmness and pre- 
cision showed the depth of his anger, and von Kerber, 
like Abdur Kad’r, felt that the time for specious pre- 
text had gone. So he answered, with equal exactness 
of phrase: 

“ I gave you that assurance months ago in Scotland, 
and repeated it in London, but I have not said it since 
we met on board the yacht, for the very good reason 
that the papyrus was stolen from me at Marseilles.” 

“Stolen!” 

“Yes, I was waylaid and robbed while driving from 
the station to the harbor.” 

“Purposely, do you mean? Was the papyrus the 
object of the attack?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then this man, Alfieri, knew of it?” 

“ I have never concealed that from you.” 

“It is hard to say what you have or have not con- 
cealed, Baron von Kerber. My confidence in you is 
shaken. How am I to know that this latest version 
of Alfieri’s amazing interference in your affairs is the 
true one?” 

No man is so sensitive of his honor as he who is con- 
scious of by-gone lapses. Von Kerber started as though 
the other had stabbed him. 

“ That is an unworthy imputation,” he cried. “ Mr. 
Royson can tell you that the papyrus was stolen. He 
rescued me from my assailants, yes ? Mrs. Haxton is 
aware of it, and, unless I am mistaken, Miss Fenshawe 
246 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

also is no stranger to the news, seeing that our second 
mate is so greatly in her confidence.” 

The older man, still watching the last wraiths of the 
mirage, seemed to be deaf to the Austrian’s biting 
allusion to Irene. 

“ I did not look for such a web of deceit,” he mur- 
mured. “The papyrus was genuine, and I sought no 
other proof of honesty. You say Mrs. Haxton and my 
granddaughter are in this pact of silence. Let us have 
their testimony.” 

Irene, as might be expected, indignantly disclaimed 
any sympathy with von Kerber’s methods. 

“ I heard, by chance, of the part Mr. Royson took in 
the affair at Marseilles,” she said. ‘‘My maid told 
me. It was the gossip of the ship. Yet, when I 
questioned Mr. Royson himself, he refused to discuss 
the matter, owing to some pledge of secrecy drawn 
from him by Baron von Kerber. You forget, grandad, 
how often you have told me that I did not understand 
this undertaking sufficiently to justify my hostility to it. 
I have never believed in it, not for one moment. If 
you wish to know what happened at Marseilles, why 
not ask Mr. Royson himself?” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Fenshawe quietly, “that will be 
well. Send for him, Irene.” 

It was noteworthy that he addressed no question to 
Mrs. Haxton. That lady, nervous and ill-at-ease, 
could not guess how far the rupture between von Ker- 
ber and his patron had gone. She felt intuitively that 
the Austrian was puzzled, perhaps alarmed, by the 
247 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


presence of an official expedition in the very territory 
he had hoped to explore without hindrance — yet his 
manner hinted at something in reserve. Though he 
quivered under Irene’s outspoken incredulity, his 
aspect was that of a man whose schemes have been 
foiled by sheer ill-luck. A rogue unmasked will grovel : 
von Kerber was defiant. For the moment, Mrs. Hax- 
ton was struck dumb with foreboding. Mr. Fen- 
shawe’s dejected air showed that a deadly blow had 
been dealt to the project to which she had devoted all 
her resources since the beginning of the march. She, 
too, had begun to doubt. Here, in the desert, the 
buried treasure was an intangible thing. In England, 
the promises of the Greek’s dying message were satisfy- 
ing by their very vagueness. In Africa, face to face 
with the tremendous solitude, they became unbeliev- 
able, a dim fable akin to the legends of vanished islands 
and those mysterious races to be found only in un- 
known lands, which have tickled the imaginations of 
mankind ever since the dawn of human intelligence. 
So, a live millionaire being a more definite asset than 
the hoard of a forgotten city, she had coolly informed 
von Kerber that if he wished to improve his fortunes, 
he would do well to pay attention to Miss Fenshawe, 
and leave her free to win a wealthy husband. It was 
a villainous pact, but it might have succeeded, at any 
rate in Mrs. Haxton’s case, for no woman could be 
more gracious and deferentially flattering than she 
when she chose to exert herself. And now, reality 
seemed to yield to unreality. The substantial fabric 
248 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

of close friendship between Fenshawe and herself had 
crumbled before the fiery breath of the wilderness. 
What a turn of fortune’s wheel! Here were all her 
plans shattered in an instant, and the man on 
whom depended the future changed into a hostile 
judge. 

Royson found a queer conclave awaiting him. 
Irene, distressed by the injustice of her grandfather’s 
suspicion that she was sharing in a conspiracy of 
silence, had retired to a corner of the tent, and wore 
an air of indifference which she certainly did not feel. 
Mrs. Haxton, pallid, striving desperately to regain 
her self-possession, draped herself artistically in a 
comfortable camp chair. Von Kerber, scowling and 
depressed, stood near the entrance, and Mr. Fenshawe 
was seated in the center of the tent. The red light 
of the declining sun was full on his face, and Dick 
fancied that he had aged suddenly. Nor was this to 
be wondered at. No enthusiast, not even a wealthy 
one, likes to have his hopes of realizing a great achieve- 
ment dashed to the ground, nor is it altogether gratify- 
ing that a woman who has won one’s high esteem 
should be associated with a piece of contemptible 
trickery. 

Mr. Fenshawe’s first question told Dick that a serious 
dispute was toward. 

“It has been stated,” said Mr. Fenshawe, looking 
at him in a curiously critical way, “that a valuable 
document was stolen from Baron von Kerber at Mar- 
seilles — what do you know about it ? ” 

249 


The Wheel o' Fortune 


Dick, hourly expecting a strenuous turn to the placid 
marching and camping of the past few weeks, was not 
taken unaware. He had mapped out a clear line, and 
meant to follow it. 

“ I regret to say that I cannot answer you, Mr. Fen- 
shawe,” said he, meeting the older man’s searching 
glance unflinchingly. 

“Why not.?” 

“Because I gave an undertaking to that effect to 
Baron von Kerber.” 

“But I am your employer, not he.” 

“No, sir. That is not my view of the contract I 
signed.” 

“ Have you a copy of that contract ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Will you show it to me ? ” 

“That is unnecessary,” broke in von Kerber, with 
a savage impatience of the quasi-judicial inquiry 
which Mr. Fenshawe was evidently bent on conduct- 
ing. “I give Mr. Royson full permission to answer 
any question you may put to him.” 

“You do, eh.? You give permission? Do you pay 
his salary?” demanded the millionaire indignantly. 

“ Yes, on your behalf. Surely the arrangement 
between us cannot be disputed. I was to make all 
arrangements, yes .? ” 

“As my paid agent, you should add.” 

Mrs. Haxton suddenly sat forward in her chair. 

“We had a tacit agreement for an equal division of 
the spoil,” she interposed, with an acidity that Mr. 

250 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

Fenshawe probably found in marked contrast with 
her usual honeyed speech. 

“That agreement would have been kept by me,” 
said Fenshawe. “You may not be aware that Baron 
von Kerber pleaded poverty, and I promised to re- 
munerate him for his services, whether we won or lost. 
I have no doubt he has my letter, duly stamped at 
Somerset House, carefully packed away with Mr. 
Royson’s agreement.” 

The retort was in the nature of the tac-au-tac riposte 
beloved of the skilled swordsman. It was succeeded 
by a tense silence. Mrs. Haxton glared at the Baron. 
The ghost of a smile flickered on Irene’s lips as she 
glanced at Dick. Von Kerber swished one of his 
boots viciously with a riding-whip. He found he must 
say something. 

“ Why are we creating difficulties where none exist ? ” 
he snarled. “If the agreement stands in the way, I 
absolve Mr. Royson from any promise he has made. 
I wanted to guard against treachery, not to tie him 
down to serve me exclusively.” 

“ You asked for obedience and a still tongue, Baron. 
I have given you both,” said Dick. 

“ There is your employer, and mine — speak.” 

Von Kerber could not be other than dramatic. He 
pointed to Mr. Fenshawe with a fine gesture. 

“I have not much to say, unless in the form of 
opinions. You certainly were attacked at Marseilles, 
and you yourself charged one of your assailants with 
stealing the papyrus. Beyond that, I know little of 
251 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


your business, though, from letters and cablegrams 
which reached me at various places, it seems to have 
been quite extensively known in London.” 

“Who was your informant?” asked Fenshawe. 

“A solicitor, named Forbes. He is not personally 
acquainted with Baron von Kerber, but this man 
Alfieri, of whom we have heard so much, employed 
private detectives. They, in the course of events, dis- 
covered my identity, and met Mr. Forbes. It is only 
fair to Baron von Kerber to say that I have never heard 
his version of the charge brought against him by 
Alfieri.” 

“I have,” said the millionaire, grimly. 

There was no mistaking the inference to be drawn 
from his words. Von Kerber was wholly discredited. 
It was exceedingly probable that the first march of the 
return journey to Pajura would be ordered forthwith. 
Indeed, Fenshawe rose to his feet, meaning to bid 
Abdur Kad’r prepare to strike camp after the evening 
meal, when Mrs. Haxton, divining his intent, cried 
shrilly : 

“May I ask what new circumstance has brought 
about this remarkable change in your plans, Mr. 
Fenshawe ? It is true that we have been favored by an 
extraordinary vision of an Italian expedition at no 
great distance from our own, but what proof have we 
that it is successful, or even engaged on an errand 
similar to ours?” 

“The mere fact that extensive research is being 
carried on is sufficiently convincing. Italian soldiers 
252 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

and Arabs do not form huge earthworks in the desert 
for amusement,” said Fenshawe. 

“They may be trying a last desperate chance,” she 
retorted. 

“You forget that they have the same information 
as ourselves. There is no trouble in deciphering 
demotic Greek and the hieroglyph minerals are quite 
simple. Once the papyrus left Baron von Kerber’s 
possession, our exclusive right to it vanished, and you 
can hardly expect me to engage in an armed attack 
on the military forces of a friendly nation.” 

“So far as the papyrus goes, it is utterly useless to 
any one,” broke in von Kerber suddenly. 

Mr. Fenshawe was stirred out of his studied calm 
by the seeming absurdity of the interruption. 

“ Useless ! ” he exclaimed, and his brow seamed 
with anger, “that is a strange word to apply to the 
only evidence of your story that you have ever 
produced.” 

“I always feared Alfieri,” said the other, throwing 
his hands out as if he were pushing away a threatening 
phantom. “ He was spiteful, and jealous, and he knew 
enough to drive him mad with desire. But I would 
allow no one to interfere with me, yes ? When I was 
sure of my ground, when I had secured translations 
of each piece of the papyrus, I altered it.” 

“Altered it!” 

Incredulity and hope were oddly mixed in the cry 
which came simultaneously from the lips of two of his 
hearers. Even Irene and Dick, less wrapped up in 
253 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


the dream of finding the Sabsean hoard, awaited von 
Kerber’s next utterance with bated breath. The 
man was too unnerved to feel any triumph at the sen- 
sation he had created. 

“Yes,” he said, sinking wearily into a chair, though 
his voice almost cracked with excitement. “ I changed 
the distances in every instance permitted by the text. 
As it stands now, the papyrus is utterly worthless. 
I acted for the best, yes.^ A secret known to more 
than one ceases to be a secret. But I am tired of 
pretense, and you shall have the truth, though it car- 
ries with it a confession of ghastly failure. I do not 
know what good fortune Alfieri has blundered into 
at Suleiman’s Well, and I admit that the place offered 
my own last chance. Yet, if he has found the treasure, 
it was not because of the papyrus, but despite it. 
Here are photographs of every section in their present 
form,” and he produced some prints from a pocket- 
book. 

“You were taught some Greek at school, Mr. Roy- 
son ? Very well. Look at the passages which are 
faintly underlined, and you will see where I have 
altered whole phrases, converted tens of miles into 
hundreds, and hundreds of paces into thousands. 
And that is the document which Alfieri obtained at 
Marseilles. He would recognize it as the original, 
though it is now quite misleading. If he is digging at 
the right place by reason of the directions given there, 
it is something beyond belief, yes?” 

“You speak of Alfieri recognizing the papyrus. 

254 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

Evidently, then, he had seen it earlier. In what 
manner was he connected with its discovery?” 

Mr. Fenshawe’s coldly direct question came in 
sharp contrast with the Austrian’s impassioned out- 
burst. Von Kerber did not reply. With his elbows 
resting on his knees, and supporting his chin between 
clenched fists, he looked through the open door of the 
tent with eyes that stared into vacancy. The man 
was in a frenzy of despair. He saw the chance of his 
life slipping away from him, but he could urge no plea 
in his own behalf. It was Mrs. Haxton who answered, 
and her composure was oddly at variance with von 
Kerber’s distress. 

“ Alfieri was assistant curator of a museum at Naples 
when the Italian occupation of Erythrea led to his 
appointment as government archeologist in this terri- 
tory,” she said. “My husband was in charge of the 
Red Sea cable at that time, and Signor Giuseppe 
Alfieri was a friend of ours. An Arab named Abdullah 
El Jaridiah, grubbing among old tombs for curios, 
came across a roll of papyri. He sold it to Alfieri for 
a few francs, and Alfieri gave it to my husband.” 

She paused; she was not a woman who said too 
much. 

“I take it that Alfieri knew no Greek?” said Mr. 
Fenshawe, with a touch of irony that was not lost on 
the lady. 

“He certainly failed to appreciate its importance,” 
was the quiet response. “My husband deciphered 
most of the narrative, but he, in his turn, had no 
255 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

knowledge of hieroglyphics, and, as you are aware, 
many of the words and figures are contained in ovals, 
or cartouches, and written in Egyptian characters. 
He would have learnt their meaning from some other 
source, but he — died — very suddenly. An accident 
caused Alfieri to suspect the value of the papyrus, and 
he asked me to return it. Unfortunately, I led him to 
believe that I would meet his wish, but Baron von 
Kerber, who, as you know, was medical officer to a 
German mission to King Menelek, came to my assist- 
ance at the time, and I told him of my husband’s views 
with regard to the portion he had translated. Baron 
von Kerber read the hieroglyphics, though he had to 
wait nearly a year before he could obtain expert advice 
as to the accuracy of his rendering. Meanwhile, Signor 
Alfieri and I had quarreled. I may as well tell you that 
he was pestering me to marry him, and I grew to hate 
the man. Then I returned to England, and a friend 
suggested that I should endeavor to interest you.. Now 
you have the whole story, so far as I am concerned in 
it.” 

“ If that is so, it would have been better had you 
taken me into your confidence at the outset,” said 
Fenshawe. 

“Alfieri was using threats. I feared the loss of your 
co-operation if a melodramatic element were intro- 
duced.” 

“But are not you and Baron von Kerber, and, as it 
would seem, your Italian admirer also, attributing an 
absurdly fictitious value to the find.^^ People do not 
256 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

pay high prices for old coins merely because they are 
historic. I have always regarded this treasure-trove 
as purely antiquarian in its interest. It may contain 
some vessels or statuettes worth money; but to what 
extent? Certainly not such fabulous sums as you 
appear to imagine.” 

Mrs. Haxton smiled sourly. 

“We are dealing in candor,” she cried. “Pray 
complete your confession, Baron von Kerber.” 

The Austrian did not abandon his dejected pose, 
but he took up the parable readily. 

“There is one slip of papyrus you have never seen, 
Mr. Fenshawe,” he said. “Perhaps you have been 
surprised that such a careful scribe as Demetriades 
gave no details of the loot ? I kept them back. There 
were fifty camel-loads of precious vessels and rare 
stuffs brought from the East. There were one hundred 
and twenty camel-loads of gold coins, and two camels 
carried leather wallets filled with pearls and rubies 
and diamonds.” 

Irene could not restrain a little gasp of wonderment 
at von Kerber’s amazing catalogue. Her grandfather 
looked at her. 

“You were wiser than I, little girl,” he murmured. 
“ You warned me that these people were deceiving me, 
yet I refused to listen.” 

“Oh, one has to follow the path that promises suc- 
cess,” interrupted von Kerber savagely. “Had I told 
you these things you would have been the first to in- 
form the Italian government. Why do you prate of 
257 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


deceit? Had we found the treasure, you must have 
seen everything. I only meant to hold you to your 
bond and demand my third share. Lieber Gotti if you 
were not a stiff-necked Englishman you would now, 
even at the twelfth hour, force these Italian hirelings 
to disgorge.” 

“Meaning that you advise a surprise march on 
Suleiman’s Well, and the massacre of every person 
who resists us?” inquired Mr. Fenshawe, acidly im- 
patient. 

“Better that than turn back at the very threshold.” 

“Excellent! The voyage of the Aphrodite would 
then achieve an international fame which would sur- 
vive the ages.” 

The blank despair in von Kerber’s face won Roy son’s 
pity. He could not help sympathizing with him. And 
there was something to be said for his point of view. 
If Mrs. Haxton had given the true version of the find- 
ing of the papyrus, the Austrian’s methods were com- 
prehensible. Seldom has poverty been tempted by a 
vision of such enormous wealth. 

“May I make a suggestion, sir?” he asked, seeing 
that no one was willing to resume a somewhat acrid 
conversation. 

“As to the form of attack?” 

Mr. Fenshawe was still amused by the idea of treat- 
ing the Italians to a coup de main. 

“No. We have made a long journey, and it might 
at least be determined whether or not it was justified. 
Will you allow me and Abdur Kad’r, and, perhaps, 
258 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

one other Arab less widely known than the sheikh, to 
try a small experiment. Let us endeavor to enter the 
Italian camp and find out what is going on ? I can 
pass easily as a member of a shooting party who has 
lost his way. They will not slay me at sight on that 
account. At any rate, I am quite prepared to risk it.” 

“The very thing!” exclaimed Mrs. Haxton, spring- 
ing out of her chair. “Abdullah is there, and you 
know him. You must not appear. Let Abdur Kad’r 
send one of his men into the camp by night. He will 
bring Abdullah to you at a preconcerted rendezvous, 
and Abdullah will tell you what Alfieri is doing. Better 
still, let Abdullah come here. If he knows I sent 
you he will accompany you without a moment’s 
delay.” 

“The proper person to go and summon Abdullah 
is Baron von Kerber,” put in Irene tremulously. 

“Before I sanction any proceeding of the sort, I 
wish to ask why Abdullah is apparently in league with 
your sworn enemy ? ” demanded Mr. Fenshawe. 

“The Governor of Massowah told me he was de- 
spatching an expedition to the Five Hills,” said Mrs. 
Haxton eagerly. “ I was sure it would fail, for reasons 
which the Baron has explained, but I bade Abdullah 
join the kafilay seeing that we could not carry out our 
first plan of landing lower down the coast. Then, if 
the Italian party received news of our whereabouts, 
Abdullah would steal away and warn us. The mere 
fact that he is not here now shows that our presence 
in this locality is altogether unsuspected.” 

259 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

Fenshawe seemed to weigh his words before he 
answered. 

“ I prefer that Mr. Royson should go, and not Baron 
von Kerber,” said he. “On the understanding that 
he interferes with our rivals in no way whatever, I 
shall be glad of his report. If we have failed, there is 
no harm in knowing the facts. May I ask, Baron, 
have you any other surprises to give us in the shape 
of history, ancient or modern ? ’’ 

“I have nothing else to say,” muttered the other. 

“Then, as it is nearly dinner-time, I trust we may 
forget Saba and its legends until we learn what progress 
Signor Alfieri has made. You start to-night, Mr. 
Royson } ” 

“At the first possible moment, sir.” 

“No, no. Eat, rest, and travel under the stars. 
That is the golden rule of a forced march in the desert 
We will give you two nights and a day. Then, if you 
do not return, I shall send an open embassy to inquire 
for you.” 

Thus it came about that, soon after night fell, three 
sulky Bisharin camels were led away from their fellows 
and compelled to kneel unwillingly to receive their 
riders. The operation was attended wath much 
squealing and groaning. 

“ They love not to leave their brethren,” said Abdur 
Kad’r, pausing to take breath for a fresh torrent of 
abuse. The camels were forcibly persuaded, and 
Royson climbed into the high-peaked saddle. His 
last thought, as he quitted the red glare of the camp- 
260 


Wherein a Bisharin Camel becomes Useful 

fires, was that Irene might have snatched a few minutes 
from her rest to bid him farewell. But she was no- 
where to be seen, so after a final hand-shake with 
Stump, he rode away into the night. 


261 


CHAPTER XV 


THE DESERT AWAKES 

The march Royson had undertaken was a trying 
one. The desert runs to extremes, and, at that season, 
the thermometer varied a hundred degrees between 
noon and midnight. When the sun dipped behind 
the hills a tense darkness fell on the land. This im- 
penetrable pall is peculiar to Egypt; probably it sug- 
gested to Moses that ninth plague wherewith he afflicted 
the subjects of a stubborn Pharaoh. Though this 
“darkness that may be felt” yields, as a rule, to the 
brilliancy of the stars after half an hour’s duration, 
while it lasts a lighted match cannot be seen beyond 
a distance of ten or twelve feet. It is due, in all like- 
lihood, to the rapid radiation of surface heat. When 
the cold air has robbed sand and rock of the tempera- 
ture acquired from the broiling sun, the atmosphere 
clears, and the desert reveals itself again in the gloomy 
monotone of night. 

It may reasonably be supposed that the excess of 
humidity which caused the remarkable mirage of the 
afternoon helped to continue the “black hour,” as the 
Arabs term it, far beyond its ordinary limits. Hence 
it was nearly ten o’clock when Royson quitted the camp 

m 


The Desert Awakes 


on his self-imposed task. To all outward semblance, 
he differed not a jot from the two Arabs who accom- 
panied him. A burnous and hood covered his khaki 
riding costume. He bestrode a powerful camel nearly 
eight feet high. Like his companions, he carried a 
slung rifle; a haversack and water-bottle completed 
his equipment. His size alone distinguished him from 
Abdur Kad’r and Sheikh Hussain of Kenneh, the latter 
being a man whom Abdur Kad’r had selected as best 
fitted to win his way unquestioned into the Italian 
camp. Royson’s Arab dress was intended to secure 
the party from espionage while they traveled towards 
Suleiman’s Well. When they neared it he would 
throw aside the burnous. His pith helmet was on his 
saddle, but the Arab hood enabled him to dispense 
with it by night. 

The older Arab led: behind him rode Royson; 
Hussain brought up the rear. In this fashion they 
climbed the slight rise of the wide valley which sheltered 
the expedition. They had gone some three hundred 
yards, and the leader was scanning the horizon for a 
gap through which the track passed, when they were 
all amazed to hear Miss Fenshawe’s clear voice. 

“I thought you were never coming, Mr. Royson,” 
she said. “I was on the point of going back to my 
tent, but I caught the grumbling of your camels. 
Then I knew that you had really made a start.” 

After the first gasp of wonder and delight, Dick 
slipped to the ground. He narrowly avoided a spiteful 
bite from his unwilling conveyance, but he handed the 
263 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


single rein to Abdur Kad’r, and hastened towards a 
rock in whose shadow stood Irene, garbed and cloaked 
so that she was scarcely discernible. 

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you, Miss 
Fenshawe,” he cried, “ yet, in the same breath, I must 
protest against your wandering so far from the camp. 
Are you alone ? ” 

“ You may be sure of that. Otherwise I should not 
be here.” She laughed cheerfully, for the escapade 
had in it a spice of adventure, and she wished to give 
it a lighter turn. 

“ Then you have news for me ? ” 

“No. You heard all that passed to-day. Since 
then, my grandfather has refused to discuss the affair. 
As a result, Mrs. Haxton and the Baron were snappy 
during dinner. In fact, they were unendurable, and 
I was delighted when they left us.” 

“ It is a hateful thing to have to lecture you,” he said, 
coming nearer, and trying to peer into her face, “but 
you know you ought not to take this risk. It is too 
venturesome. I think that this section of the desert 
is fairly clear of any real danger, so far as prowling 
Bedouins are concerned, but there are other unpleasant 
neighbors — in the shape of snakes and scorpions — ” 

“ I am wearing riding boots,” she interrupted. “ And 
I shall soon relieve your anxiety by returning to my 
hammock. Pray don’t trouble about me, Mr. Royson. 
I have waylaid you with a purpose. It is too late now, 
I suppose, to dissuade you from carrying out a useless 
and absurd journey, but I do ask you not to commit 


The Desert Awakes 


the further folly of sacrificing your own life, and, per- 
haps, the lives of others, in the mistaken belief that 
you are serving Mr. Fenshawe’s interests.” 

Though she strove to speak in a tone of conventional 
friendliness, her voice shook a little. Dick was pro- 
foundly moved. It seemed to him suddenly that the 
burnous he wore exercised a stifling effect on him. 
He threw it off, and it fell unheeded to the loose stones 
at his feet. The girl laughed again, somewhat tremu- 
lously. 

“What of those nasty creatures against which you 
warned me a moment ago?” she exclaimed. “Or is 
it that your disguise has become unbearable? You 
make an astonishingly tall Arab, Mr. Royson. I 
should have picked you out anywhere.” 

That wayward heart of Dick’s drove a hot flood of 
color to his face, but he still held mastery over his 
tongue. 

“ Why do you think I am likely to run into danger ? ” 
he asked. For an instant his calmness misled her. 
She had grown accustomed to his habit of self-restraint, 
and looked for nothing else. 

“Because you would dare anything rather than fail,” 
she said. “You would ride alone into the midst of a 
thousand enemies if you thought that thereby you 
could attain your ends. And I want to assure you 
that I — that Mr. Fenshawe — would object most 
strenuously to your incurring any real peril for the 
sake of the worthless people who have brought us 
to Africa on a wild-goose chase. By all means secure 
265 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


for us any possible information that can be obtained 
through the Arabs, but I came here because — because 
I shall feel happier if you promise me — that — you 
will avoid this man, Alfieri, and his friends. Did you 
see the look on Baron von Kerber’s face to-day.^ I 
never before realized what the hunger for gold meant. 
He would kill any one who barred his path. I could 
read his very soul. And — and — it frightened me. 
So you must come back safely, Mr. Royson, for I have 
confidence in you and Captain Stump, but I am terri- 
fied of what may happen if von Kerber tells the others 
the story of the treasure, and promises them a large 
share in it, should it be found.” 

“I had not thought of that,” said Dick simply. 
Indeed, his mind was not at all occupied just then with 
von Kerber ’s scheming. 

“So I imagined. And that is why I stole out of 
my tent and waited here. I was sure you would 
agree with me that the really important thing is our 
speedy return to the yacht. It is the only possible 
course. My grandfather never intended to gain his 
ends by armed force, and von Kerber is assuredly 
dreaming of that at this moment.” 

“I begin to see your point of view,” said he, forcing 
himself to answer her words, though his brain was 
weaving other phrases. “Even if I discover that 
Alfieri is digging up those precious camel-loads, it will 
be best for all parties that his success should be mini- 
mized.” 

“Yes, yes,” she cried eagerly. “That is my mean- 


The Desert Awakes 


ing. I do not care what happens so long as we all 
reach Pajura. Then let the Baron and Mrs. Haxton 
do as they choose. Even if they want to borrow our 
money and our goods and chattels for the purpose of a 
second expedition I shall be the first to support the idea.” 

“ You are not longing, then, for a sight of the Sheban 
wealth ? ” 

“ No. I hate the very thought of it. It is — blood- 
stained. Oh, Mr. Royson, everything now depends 
on you. Please contrive matters so that we shall travel 
to the coast without delay. That is all. You under- 
stand me, I think. It only remains for me to wish 
you good-by and God-speed.” 

She moved a little apart, but Dick’s left hand caught 
her by the shoulder. 

“No, Irene, it is not all,” he whispered. “I am 
going now, and I shall return to you, God willing, 
within thirty-six hours, and, before I go, I want to 
kiss you.” 

He could feel the quiver that shook her slender form 
at the unexpectedness of it. She uttered a startled cry, 
and wondered if she had heard aright, but she yielded 
to the clasp of an encircling arm. Perhaps she lifted 
her face in sheer amazement; be that as it may, Dick 
kissed her, not once, but many times. 

“ May Heaven guard and keep you, sweetheart,” he 
said brokenly. “You know that I love you. You 
have known it many a day, but I forced myself to be 
silent because I was proud. Now my pride has given 
way to the joy of whispering that I love you. To- 


The Wheel o> Fortune 


morrow, that stubborn pride of mine may rebuke me, 
and say that I had no right to take you to my heart 
to-night, but to-night my love laughs at all that idle 
pretense of money erecting a barrier between you and 
me. You are dearer to me than life, and why should 
I not tell you so.^^ I wanted to meet you to-night, 
Irene. I made plaint to the stars when I did not see 
you at parting. Now that you are here, I find myself 
at the gates of Paradise. Yet you must leave me now, 
dear one. Let me carry the fragrance of your kiss on 
my lips until the dawn. Then, in the chill of morning, 
when cold reason chides me, I shall refuse to listen to 
her, for I shall remember that Irene kissed me.” 

The girl clung to him during a blissful instant. 

“ Oh ! ” she sighed, and “ Oh ! ” again, as though her 
heart was throbbing its life out. Then she murmured : 

“You have not even asked me if I loved you. King 
Dick!” 

With that she glanced up at him, and placed both 
hands on his shoulders. 

“No,” he said. “I only asked you to kiss me. I 
shall ask for your love when I may come without re- 
proach and ask you to be my wife.” 

“Dick,” she. said, with adorable shyness, “it is not 
yet to-morrow.” 

He strained her to his breast. Their lips met again 
rapturously. 

“Oh, my sweet,” he said, “has ever man received 
more angelic answer to a question that filled his heart 
with longing throughout many days ? ” 

^68 



I ' 

r 



woHTtomtty 


I “ Go. Dick, but come back to me in safety ” Page 269 

I 



The Desert Awakes 


“Yet you are leaving me, and of your own accord.” 

“ Irene — you, too, are proud. Would you have me 
return now ? ” 

“No. I know now that fate has chosen you to de- 
cide our fortunes. Go, Dick, but come back to me in 
safety, or my poor little heart will break.” 

Then, as though afraid of her own weakness, she 
drew herself from his arms and hurried away towards 
the camp. He stood motionless, hstening to her foot- 
steps, and his soul sang blithe canticles the while. At 
last, when assured that she was within her tent, he 
picked up the discarded burnous, strode to the waiting 
camels, and quickly the desert enfolded him and his 
dreams in its great silence. 

And Dick thanked the desert for its kindliness, which 
had made possible that which was beyond credence. 
In London, how could a poverty-stricken outcast dare 
to raise his eyes to the patrician heiress ? He remem- 
bered that first glance of hers, and the tactful way in 
which she had discriminated between the man who 
might be glad of a sovereign for the service he had 
rendered, and him who would value a woman’s thanks 
far beyond gold. And then, with what quiet dignity 
she had ignored his fierce repudiation of von Kerber’s 
offer of recompense. In that bitter hour how might 
he foresee the turn of fortune’s wheel which in two 
short months would bring that dainty girl to his lover’s 
embrace! How delightful it was to hear his nick- 
name from her lips! King Dick! Well, such bold 
wooing ran in the blood, and it would go hard with 
269 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


any man, whether Frank or Saracen, who barred the 
way between him and his chosen lady. What if her 
grandfather were fifty times a millionaire! What had 
millions to do with love ? Precious little, quoth Richard, 
if all he had read of rich men’s lives were even partly 
true. He had a twinge or two when he reflected that, 
at present, he occupied the position of second mate on 
Fenshawe’s yacht. He pictured himself asking the old 
gentleman for Irehe’s hand in marriage, and being told 
that he was several sorts of a lunatic. But the memory 
of Irene’s kisses rendered her grandfather’s antici- 
pated wrath quite bearable, and Dick laughed aloud 
at the joy and folly of it all, until Sheikh Abdur Kad’r 
was moved to say sharply: 

“At night, in the desert, Effendi, the ears carry 
farther than the eyes, so it behooves us to make no more 
noise with our tongues than our camels make with 
their feet.” 

They journeyed slowly until a wondrous amber light 
first flooded the eastern horizon and then tinted the 
opposite hills with pink coral. Soon, rainbow shades 
of blue and green began to blend with the pink, and the 
undulating plateau they were traversing revealed with 
startling suddenness its scattered rocks and patches of 
loose stones. The camels were urged into a lurching 
trot, and thirty miles were covered in less time than it 
had taken to travel eight during the dark hours. 

Beyond a few gazelles, a pair of marabout storks, 
and a troup of jackals, they saw no living creature. 
But they took every precaution against surprise. If 
270 


The Desert Awakes 


others were on the march they meant to discover the 
fact before they were themselves seen. So, when the 
ground was practicable, they crossed the sky-line at 
top speed, hastened through the intervening valley, 
and crept in Indian file to the next crest. 

The Bisharin camels had long ceased to utter their 
unavailing growls. Such reasoning powers as they 
possessed told them that they must make the best of 
a bad business, as the lords of creation on their backs 
meant to reach the allotted destination without refer- 
ence to the outraged feelings of three ill-used animals 
who had been deprived of a night’s rest. Now, a camel 
has been taught, by long experience, that the legitimate 
end of a march is supplied only by something in the 
shape of an oasis, no matter how slight may be its 
store of prickly bushes and wiry grass. Therefore, 
these Bisharin brethren must have felt something akin 
to surprise when they were tethered and fed in a rock- 
strewn wady which offered neither food nor water. 
Animals and men had to depend on the supplies they 
had carried thither. Shelter, of course, there was 
none, and at nine o’clock the sun was already high in 
the heavens. 

One unhappy beast made a tremendous row when 
Russian mounted him again after a brief respite, and 
bade him be moving. Nevertheless, protest was 
useless, and only led to torture. Finally, squealing 
and weeping, the camel moved off, while his erstwhile 
sympathizers regarded him blandly and unmoved, see- 
ing that they were not disturbed, but permitted to munch 
271 


The Wheel d Fortune 


in peace the remains of a meal. Hussain was soon out 
of sight. According to Abdur Kad^r’s calculations, the 
Italian camp was in the center of the next important 
valley. At the utmost, it was three miles distant, and 
Hussain’s presence early in the forenoon would be more 
readily accounted for if he put in an appearance on a 
camel that was obviously leg-weary. 

Royson had given the man explicit instructions. If 
questioned, he was to state the actual facts — that an 
Englishman and himself, with one other Arab, had 
made a forced march from the nearest oasis, that his 
exhausted companions were resting at no great dis- 
tance, and that he purposed returning to them with a 
replenished water-bag and some food for their camels. 
But, amid the bustle of a large encampment, it was 
more than likely that his arrival would pass unnoticed 
save by his brother Arabs. In that event, he could 
satisfy their curiosity without going into details, ascer- 
tain whether or not Abdullah the Spear-thrower was 
among them, and, by keeping his eyes and ears open, 
learn a good deal as to the progress effected by Alfieri 
in the work of exploration. 

By hook or by crook, he must endeavor to return 
before sundown — if accompanied by Adbullah, so 
much the better. Then, having learnt his news, they 
could decide on the next step to be taken. Perhaps, if 
Abdullah came, they would be able to rejoin the expe- 
dition without further trouble. 

After Hussain’s departure, Royson and Abdur Kad’r 
disposed themselves to rest. Utilizing camel cloths 
272 


The Desert Awakes 


as tentes d'ahri, they snatched a couple of hours of un- 
easy sleep ; but the heat and insects drove even the sea- 
soned sheikh to rebellion, and by midday both men 
preferred the hot air and sunshine to the sweltering shade 
of the stuffy cloths. 

Irene was right when she said that Dick had made a 
great advance with his Arabic. He was master of 
many words of every-day use, and had also learnt a 
number of connected phrases. Abdur Kad’r knew 
some French. These joint attainments enabled them 
to carry on a conversation. 

The Arab, with the curiosity of all men who do not 
read books, sought information as to life in big cities, 
and Royson amused himself by depicting the marvels 
of London. A limited vocabulaiy, no less than the 
dense ignorance of his guide on such topics as rail- 
ways, electricity, paved streets, cabs, and other ele- 
ments of existence in towns, rendered the descriptions 
vague. Suddenly, the sheikh broke in on Dick’s 
labored recital with a query that gave the conversation 
an extraordinary turn. 

“If you have so many remarkable things in your 
own land, Effendi, what do you seek here ? ” he asked, 
waving a lean hand in comprehensive sweep. “This 
is no place for town-bred men like the Hakim Effendi, 
nor for two such women as those who travel with us. 
You have ridden three hundred kilometers across the 
desert, and for what ? To find five hills, says the Hakim. 
May Allah be praised that rich men should wish to 
spend so much money for so foolish a reason!” 

273 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“But the Hakim Effendi believes that there is an 
oasis marked by five hills somewhere in this district, 
and, were he to find it, we would dig, and perhaps 
discover some ancient articles buried there, articles of 
small value to the world generally, but highly prized 
by those who understand their histoiy.” 

“I know this desert as you know those streets you 
have keen telling me of,” said Abdur Kad’r, “ and there 
is no oasis marked by five hills. You have seen every 
camping-ground between here and Pajura. There is 
but one other track, an old caravan road from the sea, 
which crosses our present line a few kilometers to the 
south. We passed it last night in the dark. It has 
only four wells. The nearest one is called the Well of 
Moses, the next, the Well of the Elephant — ” 

“Why should you Arabs have a well of Moses?” 
asked Dick, smiling. “It is not thought that Moses 
ever wandered in this locality, is it?” 

“ We respect Moses and all the prophets,” said Abdur 
Kad’r seriously. He smoked in silence for a minute, 
seemingly searching his memory for something that 
had escaped it. 

“Is it true,” he demanded doubtingly, “that once 
upon a time many of the hills gave forth fire and smoke 
as from a furnace?” 

“Quite true. Volcanoes we call them. All these 
mountains are volcanic in their origin.” 

“Then a moulvie whom I met once did not lie to 
me. He said that seven little mounds which stand 
near that well had been known to vomit ashes and 
£74 


The Desert Awakes 


flame: thus, they came to be called the Seven-branched 
Candlestick of Moses. I suppose the well took the 
prophet’s name in that way. Who knows?” 

Royson had learnt of late how to school his face. 
Long practise under the witchery of Irene’s eyes and 
Mrs. Haxton’s ceaseless scrutiny enabled him now to 
conceal the lightning flash of inspiration that flred his 
intelligence. An old caravan road from the sea, a 
road that led to the Nile, with its fourth stopping- 
place made notable by seven tiny cones of an extinct 
volcano — surely that had the ring of actuality about 
it! Von Kerber had confessed to altering figures and 
distances in the papyrus — was this an instance ? — 
were the “ hills ” they sought not five but seven in num- 
ber ? What an amazing thing it would be if this gaunt 
old sheikh held the clue to the burial-place of the 
treasure! It must have been on the tip of his tongue 
ever since they met him, yet the knowledge was with- 
held, solely on account of von Kerber’s secretive 
methods. Had he told Abdur Kad’r that he was 
searching for an oasis sheltered by seven hills it was 
almost quite certain that the Well of Moses would at 
least have been mentioned as the only locality offering 
a remote resemblance to that which he sought. Some- 
how, Dick felt that he had stumbled on to the truth. 
Though tingling with excitement, he managed to con- 
trol his voice. 

“ You say it is four marches from here to the sea ? ” 
he asked. 

“ Five, Effendi. There are four wells, but each is 
275 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


thirty or thirty-five kilometers from the other. At one 
time, I have been told, many kafilas came that way, 
but the trade was killed by goods being carried in ships 
to other points, while it is recorded among my people 
that the curse of Allah fell on the land, and blighted it, 
and the trees died, and the streams dried up, until it 
became as you now see it.” 

Dick lit a fresh cigarette, and blew a great cloud of 
smoke before his eyes, lest the observant Arab should 
read the thoughts that made them glisten. 

“Let us suppose,” he said slowly, “that Fenshawe 
Effendi decided to make for the sea by that shorter 
road, there would be no difficulty in doing it ? ” 

“ Difiiculty ! ” re-echoed the sheikh, “ it might cost 
us many lives. A few men, leading spare camels with 
water-bags, might get through in safety, but it would 
be madness to attempt it with a big caravan. By the 
Prophet’s beard, I did not like the prospect of this 
present march, though I knew there was water and 
food in plenty at Suleiman’s Well. What, then, would 
happen if we found every well on the eastern road dry 
as a lime-kiln ? ” 

“Yet you have been that way, you say?” 

“ Once, when I was young. But we were only a few 
Arabs, with a long string of camels.” 

“Did you find water?” 

“ Malish — I have forgotten. It is so long ago.” 

Royson rose to his feet and stretched himself. He 
wondered what iVlfieri was disinterring at Suleiman’s 
Well if the legion of iElius Gallus had followed the 
276 


The Desert Awakes 


old-world route described by the Arab. Perhaps it 
was all a mad dream, and this latest development but 
an added trick of fantasy. Abdur Kad’r, looking up 
at him, chuckled softly. 

“Effendi,” he cried,“if you are as strong as you 
look, you must be of the breed of that Frankish king 
whom our great Soldan, Yussuf Ibn Ayub, fought in 
Syria eight hundred years ago. Bismillah! I have 
seen many a proper man, but none with height and bone 
like you.” 

Now, Dick knew that Abdur Kad’r was speaking of 
Richard the First and Saladin, and it did seem a strange 
thing that the founder of his race should be named 
at that moment. He laughed constrainedly. 

“You have guessed truly, my friend,” he said. “I 
am indeed a descendant of that famous fighter. Alas, 
the days have long passed since men met in fair con- 
test with lance and sword. If I were fool enough to 
seek distinction to-day in the battle-field I might be 
slain by any monkey of a man who could aim a rifle.” 

“We die as God wills,” was the Arab’s pious re- 
joinder, “ yet I have been in more than one fight in which 
a Frank of your size could have won a name for him- 
self. But I am growing old. My hot days are ended, 
and you giaours are erecting boundary pillars on the 
desert. The free people are dying. We are scattered 
and divided. Soon there will not be a genuine Arab 
left. May the wrath of Allah fall on all un- 
believers ! ” 

Then did Royson laugh again, with a heartiness that 
277 


The Wheel d Fortune 

drove that passion of retrospect from Abdur Kad’r’s 
dark features. 

“Whatever happens, let not you and me quarrel,” 
he cried. “We have enough on hand that we should 
keep our heads cool. And who can tell what this very 
day may bring forth? Things may happen ere we 
rejoin our caravan, Abdur Kad’r.” 

The sheikh bowed his head in confusion. It must 
have been the heat, he muttered, that caused his tongue 
to utter such folly. And, indeed, the excuse might 
serve, for the hot hours dragged most wearily, and the 
sun circled ever towards the hills, yet there came no 
sign of Hussain. 

Royson was divided between his promise to Irene 
not to incur any avoidable risk and his natural wish 
to obtain the information so eagerly awaited in the 
camp. Though he meant to begin the return journey 
at sunset, here was five o’clock, and he no wiser than 
yesterday at the same hour. At last, inaction grew 
irksome. He helped Abdur Kad’r to saddle the camels, 
and they mounted, with intent to climb the northerly 
ridge, and thus survey the road which Hussain must 
pursue if he managed to get away from Italian sur- 
veillance before nightfall. 

They proceeded warily. On gaining the opposing 
height they found that a broad plateau, fianked by a steep 
hill on the seaward side, barred any distant view, but 
Abdur Kad’r felt assured that the crest of this next hill 
would give them command of the whole range of broken 
country for many miles ahead. With this objective, 
278 


The Desert Awakes 


they urged the camels into a trot. When the shoulder 
of the rising ground became almost impassable for 
four-footed animals, and awkward beasts at that, they 
dismounted, tied the camels to heavy stones, and 
climbed the remainder of the way on foot. 

They looked across a narrow valley into a wide and 
shallow depression, where a clump of palm trees and 
dense patches of sayall bushes instantly revealed the 
whereabouts of the oasis. It was easy to see the regu- 
lar lines of newly-turned rubble and sand where trenches 
had been cut by the explorers. But the place was 
deserted. Not a man or horse, camel or tent, stood 
on the spot where the mirage had revealed a multitude 
some twenty-six hours earlier. 

Roysen was so perplexed by the discoveiy that his 
gaze did not wander from the abandoned camp. Abdur 
Kad’r, quicker than he to read the tokens of the desert, 
pointed to a haze of dust that hung in the still air far 
to the north. 

“The Italians have gone, Effendi,’’ he said. “Per- 
haps they, too, were looking for an oasis with five hills. 
Behold, they have found one by a fool’s counting, for 
this is the fifth hill within two kilometers of Suleiman’s 
Well. The ways of Allah are wonderful. Can it be 
that they have discovered that which you seek.?^” 

A sharp pang of disappointment shot through Roy- 
son’s breast. He was about to tell Abdur Kad’r that 
they must now regain their camels and hasten to the 
oasis while there was sufficient light to examine the 
excavations, when the sheikh suddenly pulled him 
279 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


down, for Dick had stood upright on a boulder to 
obtain an uninterrupted field of vision. 

“ Look ! ” he growled. “ Four of them ! And, by the 
Holy Kaaba, they mean mischief!” 

Royson’s eyes were good, clearer, in all probability, 
than the Arab’s, but they were not trained to detect 
moving objects with such minute precision. Never- 
theless, in a few seconds he made out the hoods of four 
men who were peering over the crest which separated 
the small valley from the larger one. They disappeared, 
and, while Royson and Abdur Kad’r were speculating 
on the motive that inspired this espionage, the hoods 
came in sight again, but this time they had the regular 
swing that betokened camel-riders. The four halted 
on the sky-line, and seemingly exchanged signals with 
others in the rear. Then they resumed their advance. 
They were fully armed; they carried their guns across 
the saddle-bow, and Dick saw that their cloaks were 
rather differently fashioned to those which he had 
taken note of hitherto. 

“ Hadendowas ! ” murmured Abdur Kad’r. “They 
are good fighters, Effendi, but born thieves. And how 
many ride behind Not for twenty years have I met 
Hadendowas on this track.” 

The Arab’s keen eyes did not cease to glare fixedly 
beyond the ridge. Soon he whispered again: 

“They may not have seen us, Effendi, but we must 
be ready for them. Go you, and lead our camels into 
the hollow there,” and he thrust his chin towards the 
seaward base of the hill. “I shall soon know if they 
280 


The Desert Awakes 


are playing fox with us. Our camels are of the Bis- 
harin breed, while theirs are Persian, so we can always 
outstrip them if it comes to a race. You understand, 
Effendi; they come from Suleiman’s Well. Perchance 
evil hath befallen Hussain.” 

Abhur Kad’r’s advice was so obviously reasonable 
that Dick obeyed it, though unwillingly. He took the 
camels to the place indicated by his companion, and 
had no diflficulty in finding a cleft in which they were 
quite hidden from the ken of any who followed the 
main track. 

Soon he heard the sheikh hurrying after him. 

“Had we awaited Hussain another half hour we 
should have been dead or captured by this time, 
Effendi,” was his bewildering news. “A white man 
and nearly seventy Hadendowas, all armed, and lead- 
ing pack camels, follow close behind the scouts. With 
them are Hussain and another, but their arms are 
bound, and they are roped to their beasts. The Giaour 
— may he be withered — rides my Bisharin camel.” 

Then Royson knew by intuition what had happened. 
Alfieri had failed in his quest. The Italian commander 
of the troops, refusing to sanction useless labor any 
longer, had marched north with his men. Alfieri, still 
clinging desperately to a chimera, had decided to remain 
and scour the desert until his stores gave out. And, 
at this crucial moment in his enterprise, came Hussain, 
the unconscious emissary of his rivals. The fact that 
the Arab was a prisoner spoke volumes. He had tried 
to communicate with Abdullah, and the watchful 
281 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

Italian had guessed his true mission. The man might 
have been tortured until he confessed the whereabouts 
not only of Royson himself and Abdur Kad’r but of 
the whole expedition. There was but one thing to do, 
and that speedily. 

“ Up ! ” he shouted, dragging the camels forth to an 
open space. “You ride in front and set the pace.” 

“What would you do, Effendi.^” cried the sheikh 
in alarm. “They will see us ere we have gone five 
hundred meters. I^et us wait for the night.” 

“ Up, I tell you,” roared Royson, catching the Arab’s 
shoulder in a steel grip. “ In another ten minutes they 
will know we have fled, and they will hurry south at 
top speed. What chance have we of passing them in 
this country at night ? Our sole hope is to head them. 
No more words, but ride. Believe me, Abdur Kad’r, 
it is life or death for you, and it matters little to me 
whether you die here, or in the next valley, or not at 
all.” 

Then the Arab knew that he had met his master. 
He climbed to the saddle, said words not in the Koran, 
and urged his camel into a frenzied run. Royson, 
who could never have persuaded his own long-legged 
steed to adopt such a pace, found it easy enough to 
induce the beast to follow his brother. 

In this fashion, riding like madmen, they traversed 
the plateau and had almost begun the descent into the 
wady where they had spent the day, when a distant 
yell reached them. There was no need to look back, 
even if such a hazardous proceeding were warranted 
282 


The Desert Awakes 


by their break-neck gait. They were discovered, but 
they were in front, and that counts for a good deal in 
a race. They tore down the hill, lumbered across the 
dried-up bed of a long-vanished torrent, and pressed 
up the further side. As they neared the ridge, four 
rifle shots rang out, and Dick saw three little spurts of 
dust and stones kick up in front on the right, while a 
white spatter suddenly shone on a dark rock to the 
left. 

“Faster!” he roared to Abdur Kad’r. “They can- 
not both ride and fire. In the next wady we shall be 
safe. Bend to it, my friend. Your reward will be 
great, and measured only by your haste in bringing me 
back to our camp.” 


283 


CHAPTER XVI 


A FLIGHT — AND A FIGHT 

Mrs. Haxton was no laggard in her hammock on 
the day after Royson’s departure from the camp, but, 
early riser though she was, Irene was up and dressed 
when the older woman came to her tent and asked if 
she might have a word with her. In fact, Irene had 
not undressed at all the previous night. When she 
tore herself from Dick’s arms, she hurried back to the 
oasis, it is true, but only to draw a chair out into 
the open, and sit there under the stars, dreaming the 
dreams of a girl to whom the heaven of love has just 
thrown wide its portals. 

Even the midnight chill did not drive her to bed. 
She closed the flap of her tent, lit a lamp, and tried to 
read, but the letters danced before her eyes. Instead 
of the scenes portrayed by the book, she saw three 
ghostly camels shuffling through stones and sand in 
the darkness, and, on one of them, the tall figure of the 
man whose parting words had filled her soul with 
honey sweetness. At last, weary with anxiety on his 
behalf, she threw herself, fully dressed, on her low-hung 
hammock, this being Mr. Fenshawe’s clever device to 
protect European skins from the attacks of the insects 
284 


A Flight and a Fight 

that swarm in the desert wherever there is any sign of 
dampness. She slept a few fitful hours, and her first 
waking thought was a prayer for Dick's well-being. 

Then came Mrs. Haxton, and the girl received her 
with unaffected friendliness, being in the mood that 
demanded the sympathy she was prepared to offer to 
all who suffered. Her visitor was observant. Her 
woman's eyes noted that Irene was still attired in a 
muslin dinner dress, whereas she invariably wore a 
riding costume of brown holland or Assam silk in the 
morning. 

“ My dear Irene," she said, “ I hope you will not allow 
that stupid dispute of yesterday to worry you into 
sleepless nights." 

“But I have slept — quite a long time," was the 
girl's smiling disclaimer. 

“ Well, now — let us consider. Mr. Royson left the 
camp about ten o'clock. A young lady who shall be 
nameless said good-by to him half an hour later — " 

“ You saw me ? " Irene flushed scarlet. 

“No, indeed. I was too busy with my own sad 
affairs to act the part of a female Paul Pry, even invol- 
untarily. But I did see you go to your tent, and I 
caught a glimpse of you at midnight when you were 
lighting your lamp. It is not yet six, so I am guessing 
things." 

“ If I were to return the compliment — " 

“ You would say that I, too, was not a heavy sleeper. 
Well, I make no secret of a perturbed night. That is 
why I am here now. I want your help, Irene. Strange 
' 285 


The Wheel o' Fortune 


as it may seem, I appeal to you because I know you 
have always been opposed to my aims. Perhaps I am 
to blame for that. Had I forced Baron von Kerber to 
take you and Mr. Fenshawe fully into his confidence, 
events might have shaped themselves quite differently. 
But it is too late to talk of what might have been. 
You are more concerned with the future than with the 
past. Last night, while you were looking into the 
wonderland of the years to come, I was reviewing lost 
opportunities. Therefore, I come to you this morning 
somewhat chastened in spirit. May I talk without 
reserve ? ” 

“Please, do,” cried Irene, drawing her chair closer. 
In the sharp clarity of sunrise she saw that Mrs. Hax- 
ton’s beautiful face was drawn and haggard. She was 
beginning to probe unsuspected depths in this woman’s 
temperament. She understood something of the intense 
disappointment which the failure of the expedition must 
evoke in one to whom wealth and all that it yields 
constituted the breath of life. And then, she was in 
love, which predisposes its votaries towards charity. 

Mrs. Haxton sighed. A consummate actress, for 
once her art was supplemented by real feeling. 

“Ah,” she murmured, her eyes filling with tears, “I 
find your pity hard to bear.” 

“Surely you are not going to cry just because I am 
sorry for you,” cried the girl. “There now. Don’t 
give way. Let me call one of the men. He will bring 
us some tea, and we can have a nice long chat before 
breakfast.” 


286 


A Flight and a Fight 

“ Yes, do that. We both need it. My grief is rather 
selfish, Irene. I know your secret, dear girl, and I 
wish you every happiness, though the phrase carries 
with it the bitter self-communion that, for my own part, 
I have forfeited most things that make life happy. 
Well, that is not what I want to say. The storm has 
passed. Summon your slave, and bid the kettle boil.” 

Suiprised and touched by the emotion displayed by 
her companion, Irene hastened to procure the beverage 
which Providence evidently intended for the consolation 
of afliicted womankind. The camp was already astir, 
and the crew of the Aphrodite were preparing their 
morning meal, so two cups of hot tea were quickly 
available. 

When Mrs. Haxton spoke again, the tears had gone, 
and her voice resumed its pleasantly modulated tone. 

“ May I begin by assuming that you intend to marry 
Mr. Royson ? ” she asked. 

Irene laughed softly, and her glance wandered beyond 
the busy camp to the distant hills. 

“I have known more unlikely events to happen,” 
she said. 

“I thought so. I recognized the symptoms. Well, 
I want to make a sort of bargain with you. If you 
help me, I can help you, and, to show that I can give 
effect to my words, I shall tell you exactly what form 
my help will take before I state the nature of the assist- 
ance I ask from you, so that you may be at perfect 
hberty to give or withhold it as you choose.” 

“ This is a rather one-sided contract, is it not ? ” 

287 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

“ No. I fancy it will be equitable. I have not lived 
in close intimacy with you during so many weeks 
without arriving at a fair estimate of your character. 
You are one of the fortunate people, Irene, who find 
it more blessed to give than to receive. At any rate I 
am satisfied to settle matters that way. And to come 
to the point, while you may experience grave difficulty 
in obtaining your grandfather’s consent to your mar- 
riage with a penniless young gentleman of striking 
physique but no profession — Mr. Royson being even 
a second mate on sufferance, so to speak — the aspect 
of your affairs changes materially when your suitor 
becomes Sir Richard Royson, Baronet, with a fine 
estate and a rent-roll of five thousand pounds a year.” 

“ How can you possibly know that ? ” gasped Irene, 
spilling half her tea in sheer excitement. 

“ It is more than possible — it is true. I happen to 
be aware of the facts. That thrice fortunate young man 
came into our lives at a moment when, by the merest 
chance, I was able to acquire some knowledge of his 
family history. His uncle, the twenty-sixth baronet, 
I believe, sustained an accident in childhood which 
unhappily made him a cripple and a hunchback. He 
grew up a misanthrope. He hated his only brother 
because he was tall and strong as befitted one of the 
race, and his hatred became a mania when Captain 
Henry Royson married a young lady on whom the 
dwarf baronet had set his mind. There never was the 
least reason to believe that she would have wed Sir 
Richard, but that did not prevent him from pursuing 
288 


A Flight and a Fight 

her with a spite and vindictiveness that earned him 
very bad repute in Westmoreland. His brother and 
nephew were, however, his heirs, though the estate was 
a poor one, but, when minerals were discovered on the 
property, he persuaded Captain Royson to agree that 
the entail should be broken, as certain business devel- 
opments could then be carried out more effectively. 
This was a reasonable thing in itself, but, unhappily, 
the younger brother was killed in the hunting-field, 
and some legal kink in the affair enabled the baronet 
to reduce the widow and her son to actual poverty. 
Young Royson made a gallant attempt to support his 
mother, but she died nearly five years ago. Naturally, 
there was a mortal feud between him and his uncle. 
Sir Richard’s constant aim has been to crush his nephew. 
He arranged matters so that the bare title alone would 
pass to the heir at his death. Yet, on the very day 
that young Royson stopped your frightened horses in 
Buckingham Palace Road, the baronet slipped on^the 
oak floor of the picture gallery in Orme Castle — that 
is the name of their place in the North — and injured 
his spine. The nearness of death seems to have 
frightened him into an act of retribution. He made 
a new will, constituting your Richard his heir, and he 
died the day before our caravan left Pajura.” 

A certain cold disdain had crept into Irene’s face as 
she listened. Mrs. Haxton was well aware of the 
change in the girl’s manner, but she did not interrupt 
the thread of her story, nor seek to alter its significance. 

“Mr. Royson knows nothing of these later events 
289 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

that are so vitally important to him ? ” she asked, when 
the other woman’s quiet narration ceased its even flow. 

“No.” 

“ Then how is it — ” 

“That I am better informed? It is quite simple. 
Baron von Kerber intercepted and read all letters and 
telegrams that came for him by camel post.” 

Irene rose. Anger flamed in her face, and her 
brown eyes darkened. 

“ You dare to tell this to me ? ” she said. 

“Exactly. You gave me permission to speak un- 
reservedly. Please sit down. I have not finished 
yet.” 

Somehow, despite her indignation, the girl was 
swayed into compliance. 

“You forget that the twenty-sixth Sir Richard was 
dead, and that it really did not matter one jot to the 
twenty-seventh whether he learnt the news a few weeks 
earlier or later. But it mattered everything to us, to 
Baron von Kerber and myself, I mean. We were 
determined that this expedition should succeed, and 
we boggled at no means which promised to achieve 
our end. We have been beaten, but not through any 
fault of ours. We felt, not without good reason, that 
if Mr. Royson were compelled to return home you 
would be converted from a passive into an active 
enemy. So we adopted the leave-well-enough-alone 
policy, and, as one woman speaking to another, I 
really don’t see what you have to grumble about. 
Blame us as much as you like, you still have the de- 
290 



4 


me i she said Page 290 





A Flight and a Fight 

lightful knowledge that the progress of your love 
affair was unaffected by titles or wealth, and I have 
left to you the pleasant duty of telling your fiance of 
his good fortune.” 

“I am afraid your reasoning is too plausible for my 
poor wits, Mrs. Haxton,” said the girl slowly. “In- 
deed, I am not' sure that I care to listen to you any 
further.” 

“But you must, you shall,” came the fierce outburst. 
“ Do you think I am lowering myself in your eyes with- 
out cause? I have told you the plain truth, careless 
of the worst interpretation you may choose to place 
on my motives. Now, in return, I want you to make 
these things known to Mr. Fenshawe. He will be even 
more disgusted with Baron von Kerber and my wretched 
self than he is at present, if that be possible. Hence, 
he will agree, in all probability, to do what we ask — 
we wish him to give us sufficient equipment and escort 
to travel direct to the coast from here — at once — 
within the hour. When we reach the sea we can 
cross to Aden in an Arab dhow, and neither Mr. 
Fenshawe nor you will ever see or hear from us again, 
save in a business sense. It is not a wildly extravagant 
demand. None of us can look forward with pleasure 
to a month’s journey in company back to Pajura. If 
I go to Mr. Fenshawe with the proposal I have made to 
you, he will suspect some hidden intent. He will 
believe you, and you can convince him that it is the 
only satisfactory way out of a disagreeable position.” 

A full minute elapsed before Irene answered. 

291 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“ I take it that you are here with Baron von Kerber’s 
consent,” she said. 

“Yes. We discussed matters from every aspect last 
night. That is why I am so well posted in your move- 
ments. We prefer not to await Mr. Royson’s return. 
Alfieri has defeated us. We have lost caste with you 
and your grandfather. For Heaven’s sake, let us go!” 

Again there was a pause. For some reason, Irene’s 
sympathies conquered her again. She had risen, and 
she approached a little nearer. 

“I wish to say,” she murmured, “that — I am — 
sorry for you.” 

Mrs. Haxton looked up at her. Her face was frozen 
with misery. She seemed to be incapable of tears just 
then. She stood up, held herself erect for an instant, 
and walked out of the tent. 

“ Thank you,” she said, without turning her head, as 
though she wished to avoid the girl’s eyes. “ Now go, 
please. Tell Mr. Fenshawe that we shall be glad to 
get away while it is possible to march. If your grand- 
father sanctions our plan, we have all details ready for 
his approval. There need be no delay. We do not 
want a great deal in the way of stores, and we give our 
promise to repay the small sum of money which will 
be necessary for the voyage to Aden and thence to 
London.” 

Irene, conscious of some unknown element in this 
wholly unexpected outcome of the previous evening’s 
discord, hurried off to arouse her grandfather. At that 
hour the kafila was usually beginning the day’s march, 
292 


A Flight and a Fight 

but Mr. Fenshawe, like the others, had remained up 
late, and he was unwilling to be disturbed until his 
servant told him that his granddaughter was exceedingly 
anxious to see him. 

As soon as she began to relate Mrs. Haxton’s story, 
she realized that it implied a confession of the attach- 
ment existing between Royson and herself. She stam- 
mered and flushed when it came to explaining the 
interest she took in all appertaining to Dick, but the 
old gentleman listened gravely and without comment. 

“What do you think, Irene?” he asked when she 
had finished. 

“I think we should all be happier and freer from 
restraint if Mrs. Haxton and the Baron left us,” she 
said. 

“I agree with you. Mrs. Haxton, as a chaperone, 
can easily be dispensed with. You say they have a 
scheme drawn up for my signature — setting forth the 
number of camels, etc., they need? Bring it to me. 
We can go through it together, and you and Stump 
can check the actual splitting up of the caravan. Of 
course, they know that we have a thirty days’ march 
before us, as compared with their five or six, and we 
may also be compelled to remain here another day or 
two. In the matter of funds I shall be generous, at 
any rate where the woman is concerned. I believe 
that von Kerber is a scoundrel, that he has led her 
blindfolded along a path of villainy, and she thinks 
now that she cannot recede. However, let us see what 
they want.” 


293 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


He was somewhat surprised to find that their de- 
mands were studiously moderate. Their tent equipage, 
seven days’ supplies, a dozen camels, two horses, and 
the necessary number of men, made up the list. Mr. 
Fenshawe gave them sufficient silver for current ex- 
penses, and a draft payable in Aden for the steamer 
and hotel charges, while he sent Mrs. Haxton a note 
offering her five hundred pounds when she arrived in 
London, and promising further assistance in the future 
if she shook herself free of von Kerber. 

Irene, who was acquainted with her grandfather’s 
liberal intent, watched Mrs. Haxton closely while she 
read that kindly message. Her pallid face was un- 
moved. Its statuesque rigor gave no hint of the 
thoughts that raged behind the mask. 

“Tell Mr. Fenshawe that he has acted exactly as I 
expected,” was her listless reply, and, within five 
minutes, the small cavalcade started. Mrs. Haxton 
elected to ride a Somali pony. She mounted unaided, 
forced the rather unruly animal to canter to the head 
of the caravan, and thus deliberately hid herself from 
further scrutiny. 

“ Poor thing ! ” murmured Irene with a sigh of relief, 
and hardly conscious that she was addressing Stump. 
“I cannot help pitying her, though I am glad she has 
gone.” 

“She an’ the Baron make a good pair. Miss,” said 
Stump. “I’ve had my eye on ’em, an’ they’re up to 
some mischief now, or my name ain’t wot it is.” 

The girl glanced at him wonderingly, for the sturdy 
294 


A Flight and a Fight 

sailor’s outspoken opinion fitted in curiously with her 
own half-formed thought. 

“ You would not say that if you knew why they have 
left us,” she said. 

“ Mebbe not, Miss Fenshawe, an’ mebbe you’ve on’y 
heard half a yarn, if you’ll pardon my way of puttin’ 
it. Anyway, the Baron is in a mighty hurry to be off; 
an’ isn’t it plain enough that he doesn’t want to be 
here when Mr. Royson comes back? You mark my 
words. Miss. You’ll hear something that’ll surprise 
you when our second mate heaves in sight.” 

Never did man prophesy more truly, yet never was 
prophet more amazed at his own success. . . . 

Royson and Abdur Kad’r, flying for their lives, 
spurred on by the further knowledge that even if they 
escaped capture or death they yet had to undertake a 
difficult journey on tired beasts if they would save the 
expedition from the attack evidently meditated by 
Alfieri and his cohort of plunderers, the two, then — 
Englishman and Arab — rode like men who valued 
their necks but lightly. 

Bullets sang close to their ears, and one actually 
chipped the stock of Dick’s rifle, almost unseating him 
by the force of the blow. But the Bisharins were 
excited, and forgot their fatigue for a mile or so, by 
which time night fell, and the uncanny darkness soon 
rendered it quite impossible to ride at all. They dis- 
mounted, and led the camels. Abdur Kad’r, true son 
of the desert, pressed forward nimbly, since every yard 
gained was a yard stolen from the pursuers. After a 
295 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

while they were able to mount again, but now the 
jaded camels lagged, and not all the sheik’s prayers or 
imprecations could force them even into the regulation 
pace of two and a half miles an hour. 

To make matters worse, a hot breeze sprang up from 
the south, and stirred the desert into curling sand- 
wraiths which blinded them and made it hard to detect 
sounds even close at hand. They were fully thirty 
miles distant from the camp, with eight hours of 
darkness before them, during which time they could 
hope to cover only half the march. The thought 
rose unbidden that the remaining half must be 
undertaken in daylight, with wornout camels, while 
the Hadendowa kafla was presumably in fresh 
condition. 

Something of the sort must have been in Abdur 
Kad’r’s mind when he said: 

“The misbegotten thieves who follow, Effendi, will 
count on overtaking us soon after daybreak. We must 
keep the water-bags fastened until the dawn. Then 
let the camels empty them.” 

Royson silently debated the chances for and against 
an endeavor to rush the journey on foot. If practica- 
ble, he would have attempted it, leaving the Arab to 
save himself and the camels by adopting a longer route. 
He decided that the project must fail. He could not 
find the road at night, and his thin boots would be cut 
to pieces by the rocks before he had gone many miles. 

Yet, if they were overtaken, what would happen to 
Irene and the others ? A sharp pain gripped his breast, 
^96 


A Flight and a Fight 

and his eyes clouded. He threw back his head, and 
passed a hand over his clammy brow. The action 
seemed to clear his brain, and he saw instantly that 
there was only one course open to him. 

“ Abdur Kad’r,” he said, when a level space enabled 
them to wallc side by side, “ which of our camels is the 
stronger ? ” 

“ They are both weary, Effendi, but mine has carried 
less weight than yours. Ere he fell for the last time, 
he would lead.” 

“Listen, then, and do as I say. If we are attacked 
to-night I shall stand and face our assailants. You 
ride on alone. I shall try to gain a fair start for you. 
You know what depends on your efforts. Should you 
fail, you not only lose life and fortune, but you also 
endanger the lives of many. You must reach the camp 
by some means. And, when you see Miss Fenshawe, 
tell her that my last thought was of her. Do you 
understand ? ” 

“Effendi—” 

“ Have you understood my words ? Will you deliver 
that message.^” 

“Yes, Effendi, but we men of the desert do not fly 
while our friends fight.” 

“I well believe it, Abdur Kad’r. Yet that is my 
order. Will you obey ? ” 

“ I like it not, Effendi.” 

“ There is no other way. What can you suggest that 
will be better ? I remain — that is a settled thing. 
You gain nothing by not trying to escape. And re- 

m 


The Wheel d Fortune 

member, these Arabs will think twice before they slay 
a European.” 

“ They will shoot first and think afterwards, Effendi.” 

“Well, we shall see. Perhaps they have given up 
the chase. In case they come upon us, lash your 
camel into a trot, and wait not for me, because I shall 
ride back, not forward.” 

The sheikh muttered a comprehensive curse on things 
in general and the Hadendowa tribe in particular. 
They stumbled on in silence for nearly two hours. At 
the end of that time they descended a difficult slope 
into a deep wady. Fortunately, they had crossed it 
by daylight early that morning, so its hazards were 
vivid in memory. In the rock-strewn bed of the 
vanished river, Abdur Kad’r halted a moment. The 
light of the stars was strong enough to reveal the 
horizon, which was visible through the fall of the 
valley, and the nearer crests of the neighboring water- 
shed were quite distinct — showing black against lumi- 
nous ultramarine. 

“ That seaward track I spoke of, Effendi, passes this 
way to the hills. The Well of Moses lies down there,” 
and the Arab, more by force of habit than because 
Royson could see him in that gloomy defile, threw out 
his chin towards the east. 

Suddenly, it struck Royson that provided he had 
guessed aright, the Roman Legion which sacked Saba 
must have marched over this identical spot in their 
effort to reach the Nile. After twenty marches, von 
Kerber said, they were waylaid by a Nubian clan and 
298 


A Flight and a Fight 

slain — every man — from the proud tribune down to 
the humblest hastatus. Perhaps they were surrounded 
in some such trap as this valley would provide. And 
what a fight that was! What deeds of valor, what 
hewing and stabbing, ere the last centurion fell at the 
head of the last remnant of a cohort, and the despairing 
Greek commissary, gazing wild-eyed from some nook 
of safety, saw the Roman eagle sink for ever! 

Abdur Kad’r, little dreaming of the train of thought 
he had aroused, moved on again. Dick had drawn 
taut the head-rope of his unwilling camel when the 
brute uttered a squeal of recognition, and both men 
saw several mounted Arabs silhouetted against the 
northern sky-line. An answering grunt came from 
one of their camels, and a hubbub of voices sank 
faintly into the somber depths, as the wind was not 
felt in that sheltered place. 

The sheikh swore fluently, but Royson spoke no 
word until they were free of the boulders, and had 
gained a passable incline which led to the steeper path 
up the opposing cliff. 

‘‘Now, Abdur Kad’r — ” he said. 

“ Name of Allah, Effendi, this thing must not be ! ” 

“It must. Go, my good comrade. It is for the 
best.” 

Abdur Kad’r smote his camel on the cheek. 

“I never imagined, Bisharin, that thou would carry 
me away from a friend in danger,” he growled, “but 
this is God’s doing, and thou art a rogue at all times. 
I shall either ride thee to death or kill thee for a feast.” 


299 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


He would not bid Royson farewell. Dick heard him 
tugging the camel forward. 

“Forget not my words to the Effendina,” he said 
quietly. 

“ I shall not forget,” came a voice from the darkness, 
and he was alone. 

Though he knew he was face to face with death, he 
felt no tremor of fear. He surveyed his position coolly, 
and took his stand in the shadow of a mass of granite 
close to whose base the track wound up the hillside. 
In case the unexpected happened, he fastened his camel 
to a loose stone behind the rock, and the poor animal 
knelt instantly, thinking that a night’s rest was vouch- 
safed at last. Dick threw off the Arab robes he had 
worn since Abdur Kad’r and he climbed the hill over- 
looking Suleiman’s Well. He opened and closed the 
breech of his heavy double-barreled Express rifle to 
make sure that the sand clouds had not clogged its 
mechanism, and fingered the cartridges in his cross- 
belt. 

Then he waited. It would take the Hadendowas 
fully five minutes to come up with him, and he expe- 
rienced a feeling akin to astonishment that he could bide 
his time so patiently, without any pang of anxiety, or 
hope, or agonizing misgiving. He thought of Irene, 
but only of her welfare. If he were not brought down 
by a chance bullet early in the fray, he felt quite certain 
of being able to stave off the final rush long enough to 
give Abdur Kad’r a breathing spell. He had sufficient 
confidence in that wily old Arab’s resources to believe 
300 


A Flight and a Fight 

that he would outwit his pursuers, provided they lost a 
good deal of time in passing this barrier. 

Plan he had none, save to hail the enemy in Arabic 
and English, and then put up a strenuous fight for the 
benefit of those who approached nearest. 

Round the shoulder of the rock he could look east- 
ward, and a glimmering mist in that direction reminded 
him of the sea, and of the Aphrodite. What a difference 
a hundred miles made! The luxuriously appointed 
yacht sailed out there in the midst of the ghostly cloud 
not so long ago. And here was he, clutching a rifle 
and preparing to sell his life in order to save most of 
her passengers and crew from a sudden attack by a 
gang of bloodthirsty ruflSans led by a frenzied Italian. 
As a study in contrasts that was rather striking, he 
fancied. 

At last he heard the shuffling of camels’ feet and the 
mutterings of men. The Hadendowas were crossing 
the river bed. 

‘‘Stop!” he shouted, in Arabic. “You die other- 
wise ! ” 

There was an instant silence. They were evidently 
not prepared for this bold challenge. 

“I am an Englishman,” he added, still in Arabic, 
and, in the belief that some of them might at least 
recognize the sound of English, he went on: 

“You have no right to molest me and my servants. 
I call on you to return to your master, and set at liberty 
the Arab Hussain — ” 

He was answered by a perfect blaze of rifles. Every 
301 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


man fired at random. At least a dozen bullets crashed 
against the rock. A violent tug at his left sleeve and 
some spatters of hot lead on his cheek showed that one 
missile had come too near to be pleasant. After 
passing through his coat it had splashed on the granite 
just behind him. 

He did not speak again, nor would he fire until sure 
of a mark. Another volley lit the darkness. This 
time he made out the forms of his attackers. They 
were standing some twenty yards away, and he marveled 
that they seemed not to see him; though he reflected 
at once, with the utmost nonchalance, that the blinding 
flash of the guns screened him quite effectually from 
their eyes. 

Then he saw two dim figures moving swiftly forward. 
He brought both down, and their yells rent the air. 

He sprang sideways, as far as the narrow road per- 
mitted, and reloaded. The Arabs aimed wildly at the 
place where he had just been standing. One of their 
number screamed a command, and they made a com- 
bined rush. He fired both barrels into their midst, 
clubbed his rifle and jumped forward. That was good 
generalship, of the sort dear to the heart of his great 
ancestor. At the first tremendous sweep of his weapon 
he broke off its stock against an Arab’s body. That did 
not matter. The heavy barrels were staunch, and iron 
deals harder blows than wood. He was active as a 
cat, and had the strength of any four of his adversaries. 
With lightning-like whirls he smote them so resolutely 
that when five were laid low the rest broke and ran. 


302 



He fired both barrels into their midst Page 302 










A Flight and a Fight 

He actually pursued them, and brought down two 
more, before he stumbled over the body of one whom 
he had shot. 

And that ended the fight. He heard men scrambfing 
over the rocks in panic, and he knew by the grunting 
and groaning of distant camels that all the kapla had 
stampeded. Searching the fallen man at his feet, he 
found a full cartridge-belt and rifle. He took them, 
lest there should be further need, but did not relinquish 
the trusty weapon which had more than equalized an 
unequal combat. 

Then he went to his camel. The terrified brute had 
risen, and was tugging madly at its rope. It semed to 
recognize him, and be grateful for his presence, if ever 
a camel can display gratitude. He gave it the contents 
of the water-bag, led it to the top of the cliff, and 
stood there a brief space to listen. Some wounded 
men were calling loudly for help, and he was sorry for 
the poor wretches ; but there was no response from their 
flying comrades. He fixed on a star to guide his course 
by, mounted, and rode away to the south, trusting 
more to his camel’s sense of direction than to his own 
efforts to keep on the track. 

When dawn appeared, a dawn that was glorious to 
him beyond measure, he caught sight of a precipitous 
hill which he remembered passing on the outward 
march. Looking back at the first favorable point, he 
could see nothing that betokened the presence of 
Hadendowas, or any other human beings, in all that 
far-flung solitude. Were it not for the presence of the 
303 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


Italian rifle and cartridge-belt, and the blood-stained 
gun-barrels resting across his knees, the fierce 
struggle in that forbidding valley might have been the 
delirium of a fever-dream. 

He rode on, munching contentedly at a biscuit from 
his haversack, until his glance was drawn to a cloud 
of dust hanging in the air, for the unpleasant wind of 
the previous night had given way to a softer and cooler 
breeze. He read its token correctly, and smiled at the 
picture which his fancy drew of Stump, when that 
choleric skipper heard what had happened to his 
second mate. Surely he would be among those now 
hurrying to the rescue! 

And he was not mistaken. With Stump came Abdur 
Kad’r, six of the A'phrodite^s crew, and a score of well- 
armed Arabs and negroes. Even before they met, 
Royson saw two Arabs race back towards the camp, 
and Stump, after the first hearty congratulations, 
explained the hurry of those messengers. 

“It’s mainly on account of Miss Irene,” he said. 
“ She took on something awful when the sheikh 
blew in an’ tole us you had gone under. He heard 
the shootin’, you see, an’, accordin’ to liis account, 
you were as full of lead as Tagg’ll be full of beer 
when he listens to the yarn I’ll spin nex’ time we 
meet.” 

Abdur Kad’r’s black eyes sparkled when Royson 
spoke to him. 

“Salaam aleikum, Effendi!” he cried. “You have 
redeemed my honor. Never again could I have held 
304 


A Flight and a Fight 

up my head had you been slain while I ran. And that 
shaitan of a camel — he stirred himself. By the 
Prophet, I must kill an older one to make a feast for 
my men.” 


305 


CHAPTER XVII 


HOW THREE ROADS LED IN ONE DIRECTION 

The news that her lover was safe restored the sparkle 
to Irene’s eyes and the color to her wan cheeks. Fen- 
shawe, indeed, had not given her the full measure of 
Abdur Kad’r’s breathless recital. Recent events had 
led the old curio-hunter to view life in less ultra- 
scientific spirit than was his habit. Perhaps he had 
re-awakened to the knowledge that the hearts of men 
and women are apt to be swayed by other impulses 
than his dry-as-dust interest in dead cities and half- 
forgotten races. Most certainly he was shocked by the 
agony in the girl’s face when she heard that the sheikh 
had returned alone, and, if he wondered at the low 
wail of despair which broke from her lips, he said 
nothing of it at the moment, but mercifully suppressed 
Abdur Kad’r’s story of the Effendi’s resolve to make a 
stand against his pursuers, and thus enable his com- 
panion to reach and warn the camp. 

The version Irene heard was that Royson’s camel 
had fallen lame, and it was deemed safer he should 
hide until help came, than mount behind Abdur Kad’r 
and risk the slower journey. Fenshawe reasoned that 
Royson might be captured, not killed. His long 
306 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

experience of Arab life told him that the tribesmen 
would be chary of murdering a European, for fear of 
the vengeance to be exacted later. Nevertheless, this 
comforting theory was more than balanced by the 
disquieting facts revealed by the sheikh, who, as he 
rode wildly to the south, heard a sharp outburst of 
firing in the valley behind him. 

Yet it was well that Irene had not been told the 
whole truth, else that anxious little heart of hers might 
have stormed itself into a fever of despair. As it was, 
her pent emotions found relief in tears of joy when the 
messengers brought the news of Royson’s approach 
with the rescue party, and her eyelids were still sus- 
piciously red, her lips somewhat tremulous, when, 
standing by her grandfather’s side, she welcomed his 
return. 

Though a hundred eyes were fixed on the two — 
though some of those eyes watched them with a keenness 
inspired by the belief that this reunion had in it a 
romantic element quite apart from the drama of the 
hour — their meeting apparently partook only of that 
friendly character warranted by the unusual circum- 
stances. And, in the general excitement, none who 
looked at Royson paid heed to the hardships he had 
undergone. He had hardly closed his eyes during two 
nights and three days, for the rest obtained while he 
and Abdur Kad’r awaited the outcome of Hussain’s 
embassy was calculated rather to add to his physical 
exhaustion than relieve it. He had covered eighty 
miles of desert on scanty fare, and had fought a short 
307 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


but terrific fight against a dozen adversaries. Yet his 
cool demeanor and unwearied carriage conveyed no 
hint of fatigue — to all outward seeming he might 
have been entering the encampment after an ordinary 
march, when a basin of water and a change of clothing 
were the chief essentials of existence. It was not so, 
of course. Were he made of steel he must have felt 
the strain of those sixty hours, and he almost yielded 
to it when he dismounted, and Fenshawe led him 
inside the mess tent. 

The older man invited him to be seated, and tell his 
adventures while eating the meal which had been 
prepared for him and Stump as soon as their camels 
were seen in the distance. But Dick, half uncon- 
sciously, still clutched the broken rifle. There were 
blood stains on his clothing, which was ripped in the 
most obvious way by bullets that had either wounded 
him or actually grazed his skin. Fenshawe’s keen old 
eyes made a rapid inventory of these signs of strife, 
and he forgot, in his anxiety, that Irene was present. 

“Good heavens, man,” he cried, “you have been in 
the wars. Did those scoundrels attack you, then? 
Are you hurt ? ” 

“No,” said Dick, sinking into a chair, and trying to 
speak with his customary nonchalance, “I am not 
injured — just a wee bit tired — that is all.” 

Irene flew to his side. She took the soiled gun- 
barrels from his relaxing grip, and began to unfasten 
the collar hooks of his uniform. 

“ Don’t you see he is almost fainting? ’’she demanded, 
808 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

reproachfully. “Bring some brandy and cold water, 
quick! Oh, Dick, dear, speak to me! Are you sure 
you are not wounded ? If it is only want of food and 
sleep, we can soon put that right, but do tell me if 
you have a wound.” 

Dick smiled, though he knew his face was white 
beneath the dust and tan, and he could not lift his 
arms for the life of him. 

“I’m all right,” he whispered. “I suppose I’m 
suffering from heart trouble, Irene. Haven’t seen you 
for two nights and a day, you know.” 

He must have been a trifle light-headed, or he would 
not have spoken to her in that way before her grand- 
father. Mr. Fenshawe, remembering the girl’s shyness 
of the previous day, may have thought a good deal, 
but said nothing, seeing that Irene was supremely 
indifferent to either his thoughts or his words at that 
instant, while Royson seemed to be heedless of any 
other fact than the exceedingly pleasant one that his 
beloved was holding a glass to his lips and asking him 
to gratify her by swallowing the contents. 

As for Stump, who was not aware of his second 
mate’s rise in the world, the manner of their speech 
affected him so powerfully that he was in imminent 
danger of an apoplectic seizure. His condition was 
rendered all the more dangerous because he dared 
utter no word. But he silently used the sailor-like 
formula which applies to such unexpected situations, 
and added certain other variations of the rubric from 
the extensive resources of his own private vocabulary. 

309 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


He recovered his breath by the time Dick’s attack of 
weakness had passed, and the color of his face slowly 
subsided from a deep purple to its abiding tint of brick 
red. 

“Rather a sudden indisposition,” said Fenshawe to 
Stump, smiling quizzically as he watched Irene sup- 
porting Royson’s head while she urged him tenderly 
to drink a little more of the stimulant. 

“ Is that wot you call it ? ” asked the captain of the 
Aphrodite, mopping his glowing cheeks with a hand- 
kerchief of brilliant hue. “I thought it was a stroke 
of some kind, but I’ve fair lost my bearin’s since I gev’ 
over plashin’ at sea.” ^ 

The amazement of the elders at the manner in which 
those young people addressed each other was slight 
in comparison with the thrill Royson caused when he 
had taken some soup, and was prepared to do justice 
to more solid food. 

“ I had a rather lively set-to with a number of Haden- 
dowas,” he explained in response to a question from 
Mr. Fenshawe. “It was brief but strenuous, and I 
assure you it is a marvel that I came out of it practi- 
cally without a scratch. At any rate, it does not call 
for a detailed description now, seeing that I have 
something of vastly greater importance to tell you. 
May I ask, sir, if you have photographs of the papyrus 
in your possession ? ” 

“ Yes. They are in my tent. Shall I bring them ? ” 

“If you please. I think I have news that will in- 
terest you.” 


310 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

“ One word before I go. Abdur Kad’r said that the 
Italians had abandoned Suleiman’s Well. Have they 
found the treasure, do you think .5^” 

“No, sir. Just the reverse. I believe that I have 
found it myself, and, if I am not mistaken, Mrs. Haxton 
and the Baron, from what Captain Stump tells me, 
are now far on their way to the right place, if they 
have not already reached it.” 

“Wot did I say. Miss Irene?” broke in Stump 
fiercely. “ Oh, he’s deep is that there Baron. I sized 
him up when he med off yesterday. An’ Mrs. Haxton, 
too! A nice pair of beauties.” 

“Whatever wrong Mrs. Haxton may have done in 
the past, I refuse to believe that she was swayed by 
some merely selfish consideration in leaving us as she 
did,” said Irene softly, and her grandfather thanked 
her with a look as he quitted the tent. 

Stump shook his head. 

“She’s as artful as a pet fox,” he growled; but he 
had no listeners. Dick and Irene were far too much 
occupied in gazing at each other. 

Mr. Fenshawe returned speedily. He spread out 
ten photographs on the table in front of Royson. 
With them was a typewritten document divided into 
ten sections. 

“ That is the English translation,” he explained. 
“Each numbered division corresponds with a similar 
number on a photograph. It simplifies reference.” 

Dick examined the translation eagerly. The first 
slip of papyrus read: 


311 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“In the seventh year of the reign of the renowned 
Emperor, C. Julius Caesar Octavianus, I. Demetri- 
ades, son of Pelopidos, merchant of Syracuse, being at 
that time a trader in ivory and skins at Alexandria, did 
foolishly abandon my wares in that city, and join the 
legion sent from Egypt to subdue the people of Shaba.” 

He saw that the letters in the word “seventh,” 
though writ in archaic Greek, bore the same space 
relation to the neighboring characters as did all others 
in the script. Reading on carefully until he came to 
the first leaf of the papyri in which the “Five Hills” 
were named, he observed instantly that the word 
“pente,” five, had its letters crowded together. Now 
the Greek for seven, hepta, has only four characters, 
the aspirate being marked over the initial vowel. 
This same crowding of “pente” was discernible each 
time it occurred in the text. It was a coincidence that 
was too intrusive. The obvious explanation was that 
“hepta” had been deleted and “pente” substituted in 
every instance, and the fraud had not been detected 
because the rest of the Greek writing was absolutely 
genuine. The hieroglyphs in cartouches, which von 
Kerber had admittedly tampered with, were beyond 
Royson’s ken. 

He was so taken up with this confirmation of his 
views, and so eager to make clear the queer chance 
that led Abdur Kad’r to explain the name of the Well 
of Moses, that he was blind to the growing wrath in 
Mr. Fenshawe’s face until he happened to catch the 
indignant note in the older man’s voice as he bade a 
312 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 


servant summon the sheikh. Then a single glance 
told him what he had done. The wounded vanity of 
the famous Egyptologist had risen in its might, and 
swept aside all other considerations. The man of 
wealth could permit his charitable instincts to govern 
the scorn evoked by the Austrian’s petty tactics, but 
the outraged enthusiasm of the collector was a torrent 
that engulfed charity and expediency alike in its flood. 
Nothing short of the most painstaking personal exami- 
nation of the oasis at the Well of Moses would now con- 
vince the millionaire that von Kerber had not tricked 
him at the eleventh hour. 

Though the expedition was in Italian territory, 
though he was aware that a tribe of hostile Arabs was 
already hovering on the outskirts of the camp, though 
the presence of Irene rendered it imperative that he 
should not risk the attack which would probably be 
made that night, these urgent conditions of the moment 
did not prevail in the least degree against the madden- 
ing suspicion that the self-confessed forger who had 
duped him had put the seal on a piece of clever ras- 
cality by exploiting the real treasure-ground for his 
own benefit. 

Royson was far from expecting this development. 
Yet, now that it had occurred, he saw that it was 
inevitable. Before Abdur Kad’r appeared he guessed 
why Mr. Fenshawe wanted him in such a hurry. 
Irene, who had never known her grandfather to be 
so greatly disturbed, whispered earnestly to her 
lover : 


313 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“If grandad wishes you to follow von Kerber, you 
must be too ill to do anything of the sort.” 

“Then I shall remain here alone,” said he, smiling 
at her dismay. “ Unless I am much mistaken we shall 
all be hot on his track before we are many hours 
older.” 

He was right. When the sheikh came he received 
orders to prepare for an instant march towards the 
coast by way of the caravan route. Then the burning 
zeal of archeology received a check. 

“ It is impossible that the kafila should move in that 
direction before to-morrow’s dawn, O worthy of honor,” 
said Abdur Kad’r emphatically. “ We can march 
south to-day, if Allah wills it, knowing that we shall 
find food and water within fifteen kilometers without 
fail. To reach the Well of Moses is a different thing. 
I have not seen the place during thirty years. We 
must travel early and late, and carry with us a water 
supply that will not only suffice for the journey but 
safeguard us against any failure of the well when we 
arrive there. What proof have we, Effendi, that it is 
not choked with sand ? ” 

Fenshawe was too skilled in the varying contin- 
gencies of desert life not to admit the truth of the 
sheikh’s reasoning, but he held to the belief that von 
Kerber had secret information as to the practicability 
of the route. 

“Be it so,” he said curtly. “Let every preparation 
be made. We have no cause to fear these dogs of 
Hadendowas. I charge myself with the care of the 
314 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 


camp where they are concerned. See to it, Abdur 
Kad’r, that we start ere sunrise.” 

The conversation was in Arabic, so Stump could 
not gather its drift. When he learnt his employer’s 
intentions he roared gleefully: 

“ By gad, sir, I’m pleased to ’ear you’re makin’ for 
blue water once more. Just for a minute I fancied 
you was tollin’ our brown pilot to shove after von 
Kerber, an’ string ’im up.” 

Mr. Fenshawe laughed grimly. 

“The rogue deserves it, but I cannot take the law 
into my own hands, captain,” he said. 

“Oh, that wasn’t botherin’ me,” was the offhand 
answer. “ I was on’y wonderin’ where you would find 
a suitable tree.” 

Fenshawe bent over the table, and asked Roy son 
to go through the papyri with him, comparing the 
Greek, word for word, with the translation. He him- 
self was able to decipher the hieroglyphs, but the 
details and measurements they gave might be dis- 
missed as unreliable. Depending, however, on the 
context, and having ascertained from Abdur Kad’r 
that the seven small lava hills at Moses’s Well stood 
in an irregular circle near the oasis, it was a reasonable 
deduction that the Romans had selected a low-lying 
patch of sand or gravel somewhere in the center of the 
group as a suitable hiding-place for their loot. It 
might be assumed that iElius Gallus meant to sail 
down the Red Sea again, within a year at the utmost, 
and recover the spoil when his galleys were there to 
315 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


receive it. Therefore, he would not dig too deeply, 
nor, in the straits to which he was reduced, would he 
waste many hours on the task. 

Fenshawe infected Dick with his own ardor. The 
two were puzzling over each turn and twist of the 
Greek adventurer’s awkward phrases when Irene, 
who had gone out with Stump, interrupted them. 

“ Dick,” she said, blushing poppy red because she used 
his familiar name, “ you must go and rest at once. I am 
sure, grandad, you don’t want Mr. Royson to break 
down a second time, do you } And I would like both of 
you to know that Baron von Kerber took with him no 
pickaxes. Captain Stump and I have just checked 
our stock. That seems to be in his favor, I think ? ” 
“If I have done von Kerber an injustice I shall be 
the first to ask his pardon,” said Fenshawe. “At 
present, I have every cause to doubt the man’s motives 
in leaving us, and I want more than negative proof to 
acquit him of dishonesty. By the way, Irene, have 
you told Royson of his good fortune ? ” 

“I have hardly spoken two words to him since he 
arrived,” said she innocently. 

“Dear me! That sounds like a strong hint,” and 
Fenshawe very considerately left the two alone. Tired 
as Dick was, the best part of an hour elapsed before 
Irene could explain fully that he was now a baronet, 
with a reasonably large income, or he could make her 
understand exactly why he was a somewhat frayed 
out-of-work when they met in London. 

Perhaps there were interludes and interruptions, 
316 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

Perhaps he thought that the limpid depths of her 
brown eyes offered more attractions than the sordid 
records of a foolish man’s spite and a boy’s sufferings. 
At any rate, it was Irene who finally insisted that this 
must positively be the last, and who threatened that 
she would not speak to him again that day if he stirred 
out of his tent before dinner. 

And, indeed, Dick required no rocking when, after 
a refreshing wash, he stretched his long limbs in his 
hammock. His sleep was dreamless. He awoke at 
sundown strong in the convictiop that he had hardly 
closed his eyes. 

He and Stump shared the tent, and Dick’s uncer- 
tain gaze first dwelt on his skipper, who was seated 
at the door, smoking. Stump removed his pipe from 
between his teeth: 

“Good evenin’. Sir Richard,” he said solemnly. 
Then the huge joke he had been cogitating ever since 
Irene informed him at luncheon that Royson was now 
a man of title mastered him completely. 

“Sink me,” he burst forth, “I’ve had some daisies 
of second mates under me in me time, but I’ve never 
bossed a bloomin’ barrow-knight afore. My god- 
father! Won’t Becky be pleased! An’ wot ’ll Tagg 
say.^ Pore old Tagg! He’ll ’ave a fit!” 

“ Look here, captain — ” began Dick, swinging his 
feet to the ground. But Stump’s slow-moving wits, 
given full time to get under weigh, were working freely; 
punctuating each pause with a flourish of his pipe, he 
continued : 


317 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“Lord love a duck, I can see Tagg blowin’ in to a 
snug in the West Injia Dock Road, an’ startin’ ev’ry 
yarn with, ‘W’en I sailed down the Red Sea with Sir 
Richard — ’ or, ‘We was goin’ through the Gut on a 
dirty night, an’ Sir Richard sez to me — ’ Well, there, 
I on’y hope ’e survives the fust shock. W’en ’e gets 
’is wind we’ll ’ave a fair treat. Mind ye, I ’ad a sort 
of funny feelin’ when you tole me in the train you was 
my second mate, an’ you sat there a-wearin’ knickers. 
It gev me a turn, that did. An’ then you took another 
twist at me by sayin’ you’d never bin to sea. I knew 
things was goin’ to happen after that. It must ha’ bin, 
wot d’ye call it — second sight — for I knew then an’ 
there I’d got a prize in the lottery — ” 

“Oh, shut up!” shouted Royson, diving frantically 
for his boots. 

“That’s no way for a barrow-knight to talk to ’is 
admirin’ skipper,” said Stump. “But I s’pose, now, 
it sounds queer to ’ave me a-callin’ you Sir Richard, 
w’en, as like as not, I might be dammin’ your eyes as 
second mate.^” 

Royson tried to escape. In his hurry he did not 
notice a bulky letter which lay on the top of one of his 
leather trunks. Stump called him back. 

“You’re missin’ your mail. Sir Richard,” he said, 
and Dick, perforce, returned. Oddly enough, the 
letter covered the initials “R. K.” painted on the 
portmanteau. Turning a deaf ear to Stump’s further 
pleasantries, he opened the envelope. A scrawl on a 
sheet of thin continental note-paper contained the brief 
318 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 


statement that, “by inadvertence,” von Kerber had 
“detained the enclosed letters and cablegrams.” The 
enclosures, which were from Mr. Forbes, bore out the 
accuracy of Mrs. Haxton’s revelations. He was, in 
very truth, the twenty-seventh baronet of his line, sole 
owner of Orme Castle and its dependencies, and be- 
fitted, by rank, descent, and estate, to take a social 
position of no mean order. 

For an instant he forgot his surroundings. He 
recalled the stately old house and its beautiful park 
as he had last seen it, with all its glories rejuvenated 
by the money that was pouring in to the coffers of his 
detested relative. And now that malign old man was 
at rest, after a tardy admission of the grievous evil he 
had wrought to his brother’s wife and son. Well, 
peace be to his crooked bones! Dick could have 
wished him safely in Paradise if the wish would restore 
to life his beloved mother. And she, dear soul — 
though he had forgotten her last night — perhaps her 
gentle spirit was shielding him as he stood with his 
back to the rock and faced the vicious swarm of Arabs 
in the darkness. 

Then Stump’s gruff accents broke in on his dreaming. 

“Is it O. K., Sir Richard?” he asked. “Them’s 
the papers von Kerber held up, I reckon ? Have ye 
got a clean bill?” 

Royson stooped and grasped Stump’s shoulder. 

“When we reach England, skipper,” he said, “you 
and Tagg, and Mrs. Stump, too, for that matter, must 
come and see my place in the North. An’ I’ll tell ye 
319 


The Wheel o* Fortune 


wot,” he went on, with fair mimicry of Stump’s voice 
and manner, “you’ll all ’ave the time of your lives, 
sink me, if you don’t!” 

Stump glared up at him. No man had ever before 
dared to reproduce that hoarse growl for his edifica- 
tion, and the effect was electrical. It might be likened 
to the influence exercised on a bull by the bellow of a 
rival. He took breath for a mighty effort — and 
Royson fled. 

Be sure that Irene, though vastly occupied with 
work which von Kerber had performed hitherto — 
those small but troublesome items appertaining to the 
daily life of a large encampment — had an eye to watch 
for Dick’s reappearance. She hailed him joyfully: 

“Such news! The enemy proclaims a truce. Al- 
fieri has sent in Hussain and Abdullah, not to mention 
the purloined camel. And one of his own men has 
brought a note for grandfather, asking an early con- 
ference.” 

At first, Royson was unfeignedly glad of this un- 
looked for turn in events. He did not share Mr. 
Fenshawe’s optimism in the matter of a night attack 
by the Hadendowas, because Irene was there — and 
who could hope to shield her beyond risk of accident 
when long-range rifles were sniping the camp? 

Alfieri’s letter was civil and ap'ologetic. He ex- 
plained that he had no quarrel with the English leader 
of the expedition — his feud lay with the Austrian and 
the woman who had helped to despoil him (Alfieri) 
of his rights. He felt assured, he said, that Signor 
320 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

Fenshawe — whose fame as an Egyptologist was well 
known to him — would not be a consenting party to 
fraud, and he wished, therefore, to arrange a meeting 
for the following day, when he would state his case 
fully, face those who had robbed him, and leave the 
final decision with confidence in the hands of one whose 
repute made it certain that justice would be done. 

The appeal was written in hardly intelligible English, 
but an Italian version accompanied it, and Irene was 
able to translate every word of the latter. 

“Of course, grandad agreed,” said Irene. “He 
has fixed on seven o’clock to-morrow for the con- 
ference. I am looking forward with curiosity to 
seeing Alfieri again. I remember him perfectly. 
Captain Stump and I had a good look at him in Mas- 
sowah, you know.” 

“ Has the messenger gone back already 9 ” 

“Oh, yes. He left the camp two hours ago.” 

“ Did he speak to any of our men ? ” 

“He may have done so. I’m not sure. We were 
so taken up with Alfieri ’s communication that we gave 
no heed to the Arab. But grandad said, by the way, 
that it was just as well he should see our strength, and 
that we had a dozen armed sailors here, in addition 
to so many natives. You are worrying about me, I 
suppose ? Allow me to observe that I, as staff officer, 
have assisted the commander-in-chief to divide our 
forces into two strong guards for the night. Grand- 
father commands one. Captain Stump the other, while 
you, O King, have to sleep soundly until the dawn.” 

321 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


“But I have just slept eight hours!” 

“Oh, well, being on the staff, I also arranged 
that we should mount guard together until eleven 
o’clock.” 

It went against the grain to dash her high spirits 
with the doubt that had seized him as soon as he heard 
of the Hadendowa Arab’s departure. In all proba- 
bility, the man had found out that von Kerber and 
Mrs. Haxton were no longer in the camp. The negro 
syces and other attendants were inveterate gossips, 
and it would be strange if they had not told him that 
some of their number were marching towards the sea 
with the Hakim-Effendi and one of the Giaour women. 
What would happen were this knowledge to come to 
Alfieri’s ears.^^ The man who had not scrupled to 
order the pursuit and capture — the death, if need be 
— of Royson himself and Abdur Kad’r, was not a 
stickler at trifles. It was reasonable to suppose that 
he was making overtures of peace solely because his 
scouts had revealed the size of the expedition. How 
would he act under these fresh circumstances ? Judg- 
ing by the pact, there could be only one answer. 

“Now what is it?” pouted Irene, trying to assume 
an injured air when she saw the grave look in her 
lover’s face. “Perhaps you don’t care for the eleven 
o’clock idea? I thought you would like to sit and 
smoke, and tell me everything that happened since — 
since I said good-by to you the other evening, but, of 
course — ” 

“If you gaze at me so reproachfully, Irene, I shall 
322 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

kiss you now, this instant, under the eyes of every man, 
horse, and camel.’’ 

“ Well, then, what is the matter ? I know something 
is worrying you. I can read your face like a book.” 

“I distrust Alfieri, dearest, — that is all.” 

“But he simply dare not fight us. Grandad knows 
these Arabs for many years. He says that they depend 
wholly on a surprise. And how can we be surprised, 
when Alfieri himself admits that he is near, and has 
actually sent Abdullah, who can tell us the exact num- 
ber of his men ? ” 

“I think I shall call you Portia, not Irene, if you 
reason things out in that fashion.” 

She stamped a foot in mock anger. 

“That is your old trick,” she said. “You try to 
hide your thoughts by an adroit twist in the conversa- 
tion. Out with it! What do you really fear. 

“Let us find Abdullah. Then I shall tell you.” 

The Spear-thrower, though polite, was not disposed 
to be communicative. The absence of the two people 
who were his allies had puzzled him, and none of the 
Arabs could meet his inquiries as to the motives which 
led to their sudden journey. In this man’s attitude 
Royson found ample corroboration of his own estimate 
of Alfieri’s views under similar conditions. Abdullah 
obviously did not believe that von Kerber had aban- 
doned the quest. He fancied he was betrayed. If the 
chance offered, he might be expected to throw in his 
lot with Alfieri. 

Though Irene was listening, and Dick was sure she 
323 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

had hit on the true cause of his anxiety, he determined 
to win Abdullah’s loyalty. So he told him of Mr. 
Fenshawe’s resolve to follow the seaward route. 

“ Your interests, whatever they may be, are absolutely 
safe if you trust us,” he said. “The Baron is only 
two marches ahead of us. He does not know we are 
going the same way. He thinks we are making for 
Pajura, so we will most certainly overtake him at the 
coast, if not earlier. Thus, you can convince yourself 
of his good faith, and you can see for yourself that the 
ultimate decision of affairs must rest with us.” 

The Arab bowed, but he kept a still tongue. Yet he 
admitted afterwards that Royson’s words had diverted 
him from his fixed intent to steal off when night fell, 
and urge Alfieri to pursue the runaways. 

The Italian needed no urging. Dick advised Mr. 
Fenshawe to send out two men on horseback in order 
to locate the Hadendowas. Hussain, who was ac- 
quainted with the country, volunteered for this duty, 
and he and his companion came in at midnight with 
the depressing report that Alfieri and his free-booters 
were not to be found on the main track to Suleiman’s 
Well. 

By this time, not only Fenshawe, and Irene, but 
Stump and Abdur Kad’r, when called into counsel, 
shared Dick’s foreboding. It was impossible to do 
anything before dawn, and the sole difficulty that 
remained was to decide whether they should march 
when the first streaks of light showed in the sky, or 
await the hour fixed for the interview with Alfieri. 

324 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

They resolved to leave Hussain and a few trustworthy 
men at the oasis, with instructions to remain there until 
eight o’clock. If Alfieri kept his tryst, they were to 
give him a letter, written by Irene, which asked him to 
follow and join the expedition. Otherwise, they were 
to ride after the caravan at top speed, and report his 
non-arrival. 

So Dick and Irene missed that agreeable watch under 
the stars, and their thoughts, instead of being given to 
each other, were centered on the unlucky fortune- 
hunters whom accident or design had separated from 
them. 

Yet, when the sun rose over the desert, it was ex- 
hilarating enough to find themselves riding side by 
side once more. The order of march was simple but 
well designed. Abdur Kad’r, in command of several 
Arabs on Bisharin camels, provided a mounted screen 
half a mile in front. Fenshawe, Royson and Irene, with 
some of the sailors, formed the advance guard. Then 
came the kafila proper, with the remainder of the 
Aphrodite*s crew, under Stump’s charge, as a rear- 
guard. They had halted for breakfast, and were pre- 
paring for another long march before the heat of the 
sun enforced a rest, when Hussain overtook them. 
At eight o’clock Alfieri had not visited the rendezvouSy 
nor was he to be seen an hour later from the summit 
of the last hill which gave a view of the oasis. 

Ill news is little the better because it is expected, 
and every one was wishful to push on as quickly as 
possible. But the desert was inexorable in its limita- 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


tions. Great speed means great exhaustion, and 
consequently greater demand for water. Neverthe- 
less, they risked the chance of a dry spell at the journey’s 
end, and, finally, despite Irene’s protests against being 
left behind, Royson and Abdullah, with six of the 
A'phrodite^s men, and Abdur Kad’r, at the head of 
thirty picked Arabs, went on at a spanking pace. 
They were now on the actual caravan path, having 
reached it by a cross-country line. According to the 
sheikh’s calculations, they were ten miles from the 
Well of Moses at four o’clock, and sunset would take 
place at half -past six. The road was a bad one, and 
their camels were beginning to lag, but they counted 
on reaching the ancient camping-ground about half 
past five. Abdullah was the first to discover recent 
signs of a large kafila having passed that way. He it 
was, too, who raised a warning hand when they emerged 
from a wide valley and crossed a plateau, which, 
roughly speaking, was three miles from the well. 

They halted, and strained eyes and ears. They 
could see nothing, owing to a few scattered hummocks 
in front, but they caught distinctly the irregular thuds 
of distant rifle-firing. That was enough. Careless 
of the rough going, or the condition of their camels at 
the close, they raced ahead madly. There was no 
question now of the odds they might have to face. 
Though the Hadendowas were well armed, and out- 
numbered them by two to one, Royson felt that the 
presence of the Englishmen, all of whom were ex- 
sailors of the Royal Navy, would nerve his Arab 
326 


How Three Roads led in One Direction 

helpers to attack and defeat Alfieri’s band of cut- 
throats. Moreover, von Kerber and his small escort 
were evidently making a fight of it, and, while day- 
light lasted, the Hadendowas, once discovered, would 
endeavor to shoot down their quarry at a safe range 
rather than undergo the certain loss of an open assault. 

How long could the unequal contest be maintained — 
that was the question that tortured Dick. Many 
times during that wild ride he asked it, and the only 
answer he received was given by despair. It came to 
him through a spume of dust and flying sand, and the 
rattle of accouterments, and the plaints of frenzied 
camels, and the yells and curses of the strangely- 
assorted company of deliverers as they plunged across 
the desert towards the Well of the Seven Hills. And 
its discordant shriek was, “ Too late ! Too late ! The 
gods have frowned on the pillagers of Saba, and the 
wrath of the gods is everlasting!” 


327 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE FINDING OF THE TREASURE 

Royson, a soldier by instinct if not by training, 
realized the folly of dashing blindly into a fray the 
nature of which was hidden from him. Though the 
plight of his erstwhile companions must be desperate 
— though the lengthening shadows warned him that 
the time ran short — it was all-important that he 
should learn the manner and direction of the attack, 
and the means adopted by von Kerber for repelling it, 
ere the presence of the relieving force became known. 
He had heard much of the fighting qualities of the 
Hadendowas. They were brave, but they were not 
given to throwing their lives away uselessly. Judging 
by the steady crackling of musketry, they were “ eating 
up” the smaller contingent with the least possible 
risk to themselves. They were quite capable of de- 
livering a fierce charge when they witnessed the ap- 
proach of the rescuers, or, on the other hand, they 
might allow the newcomers to combine with von 
Kerber, and depend on their rifle fire to dispose of the 
reinforced defense. He must decide quickly, once he 
knew the conditions, and it was imperative, therefore, 
that something in the nature of a reconnaissance should 
328 


The Finding of the Treasure 

be conducted from the shoulder of the rising ground 
which terminated the plateau. By shouting to Abdur 
Kad’r and signaling to his own men, Dick managed 
to check the furious onward rush of the detachment. 
It was no easy matter to stop the excited camels. The 
stubborn brutes were equally unwilling either to travel 
at such a rate or to abandon it. Before the sky-line 
was reached, however, they were pulled up. Royson, 
Abdur Kad’r and Abdullah dismounted, and ran 
rapidly to the crest, dodging behind rocks and broken 
ground until they secured a clear view of the panorama 
in front. It was a singular and, in one respect, a 
disconcerting scene that met their anxious gaze. 

The only practicable road descended rapidly towards 
an immensely wide and shallow depression. Conceiv- 
ably, this basin might have been formed by the subsi- 
dence of the land all round an extinct volcano, whose 
one-time activity was revealed by a cluster of small 
cones in the distance. Running due east, and passing 
north of the crater thus curiously marked, was the 
arid river-bed which created the oasis, and rendered 
possible the well which gave its name to the place. 
Unfortunately, the group of lava hillocks was situated 
much beyond the center of the hollow. They were 
commanded by small hills on three sides, and, though 
capable of defense in some respects, they offered the 
grave disadvantage of being in a circle. Consequently, 
the only section secure from an enemy’s fire was that 
on the western side, and it was evident that the de- 
fenders had found this to be actually the case. They 
329 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


were, of course, clearly visible from the ridge, where, 
unknown to them, the leader of a strong relief was then 
lying in the cleft of a rock split to its base by extremes 
of heat and cold. 

Dick counted the cones. There were seven of them. 
Though fully a mile and a half distant, he could see 
Mrs. Haxton sitting between two huge boulders. Von 
Kerber was near her, and the few Arabs with them 
were scattered among the rocks in positions whence 
they could return the incessant fusillade poured on 
them from the hills. Their camels were huddled in a 
hollow between the two westerly mounds, and, so far 
as Royson could judge, the little party had not yet 
sustained many casualties. But the tactics of their 
assailants were quite obvious. The Hadendowas, 
silently and unseen, had occupied the higher ground 
on the north, east, and south. They had probably 
stampeded the unsuspecting kafila from the open oasis, 
because a couple of tents and some camp equipage 
still stood there, and it was their intent to creep nearer, 
pushing the horns of an ever-closing crescent steadily 
westward, until a junction effected just before sunset 
would permit of a successful rush. Indeed, all doubt 
on this point was dispelled by the discoveiy of two 
strong companies of Hadendowas gathering on the 
reverse slopes of the nearest hills. They were mounted, 
mostly on camels. They did not reveal their existence 
by taking part in the firing. They seemed to be 
waiting some signal before they rode out into the 
plain, to complete the merciless ring which would 
330 


Tlie Finding of the Treasure 

then surround the doomed occupants of the Seven 
Hills. 

There was not a moment to be lost, and Royson, 
having formed his plan, put it into instant operation. 
He and the six sailors would be the first to cross the 
sky-line, while a few Arabs would accompany them, 
but hurry back as soon as they were visible, giving the 
impression that they had gone to summon others. The 
men from the Aphrodite would ride straight, at top 
speed, towards the beleaguered party. Two minutes 
later, Abdur Kad’r was to lead half his Arabs over the 
ridge and make for the enemy’s right wing, while, after 
a similar interval, Abdullah, at the head of the remain- 
ing detachment, would similarly dash into sight and 
advance against the enemy’s left. The opposing force 
would thus see three successive waves of rescuers, each 
apparently stronger than its predecessor, coming from 
the only direction whence succor was possible. Alfieri 
and his followers were well aware already of the strength 
of Mr. Fenshawe’s expedition. If they imagined that 
it was advancing in its full numbers, they might break 
and run without firing another shot. If, however, they 
showed fight, Abdur Kad’r and Abdullah had most 
stringent orders not to pursue the flanking parties, 
which they would certainly drive in on the main body. 
They were to converge towards the hillocks, where 
Royson would, by that time, have brought hope and 
renewed courage to their hard-pressed friends. Then, 
granted that the Hadendowas dared a general attack, 
the whole force, rescuers and rescued, were to fall back, 
331 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


converting the struggle into a rear-guard action, and 
compelling the Hadendowas to relinquish the advantage 
of the higher ground. Once they came into the open, 
Royson counted on the superior shooting of his six 
sailors — all marksmen of the Royal Navy — to turn 
the scale unmistakably in his favor, while his Arabs 
had the confidence of knowing that each mile they 
gained in the retreat brought them nearer the powerful 
caravan in the rear. 

The scheme was excellent in every way. Under 
ordinary conditions it would have achieved success, 
but the sane mind can never take into reckoning the 
vagaries of the insane, and it is quite certain that 
Alfieri, worn alike by hardship and long brooding over 
his wrongs, either went stark staring mad at the spec- 
tacle of relief being forthcoming for those whom he 
believed to be entrapped, or gave instant rein to the 
frenzy already consuming him. 

At a moment, then, when it was suicidal to attempt 
an attack which his men had refused to carry out 
under the much less dangerous conditions that pre- 
vailed all day — it was ascertained afterwards that the 
first shower of bullets fell into the startled camp about 
ten o’clock that morning — at that moment, Alfieri, 
screaming curses in Italian and Arabic, called on those 
nearest to follow him, and rode out from the shelter 
of one of the small hills. In sheer excitement, a few 
Hadendowas obeyed his wild command. They had 
not far to go, but the rocky water-course barred the 
track and they must cross it slowly. Now, above all 
332 


The Finding of the Treasure 

else, was the time for the sorely-tried little band under 
von Kerber to stand fast. They could have shot at 
their leisure Alfieri and each man of the half dozen who 
came with him. Already three groups of yelling men 
were stirring the dust into life as they scampered to 
the rescue across the comparatively level floor of the 
basin. In five minutes, or less, the Hadendowa attack 
would be rolled back into the hills, and neither friend 
nor foe had any other thought than that the whole of 
Mr. Fenshawe’s Jcafila was pouring its irresistible power 
into the fray. 

The situation was precisely one of the suddenly- 
arising and acute crises in warfare which accentuate 
the difference between races. While von Kerber, and 
Mrs. Haxton, too, for that matter, saw the urgent need 
of prolonging the desperate strife for just those few 
minutes, their Arabs, after fighting coolly and bravely 
throughout an exhausting day, now quite lost their 
heads. Heedless of the Austrian’s prayers and impre- 
cations, heedless of Mrs. Haxton’s shrill appeal that 
they should beat off the few assailants then perilously 
close at hand, they yielded to the blind instinct of 
self-preservation, and rushed pell-mell for the camels. 
At once these men of a martial tribe, men who had 
cheerfully faced the far greater danger of the Haden- 
dowa general attack, became untrammeled savages, 
each striving like a maniac to secure a mount for 
himself, and careless whether or not his employers and 
comrades escaped also. 

Many of the camels were wounded, some were dead, 
333 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


and valuable time was wasted, even in this disgraceful 
sauve qui peut, in a deadly struggle for possession of 
such animals as could move. Von Kerber, when it 
was borne in on him that to obtain a camel meant life 
for Mrs. Haxton and himself, shouted to her to keep 
close to him, and ran in front of a mounted Arab who 
had emerged from the melee. He ordered the man to 
halt, and, so near were Royson and his tiny squadron 
just then, that the camel might have brought all three 
into safety. But the Arab bent his head, and urged 
the swaying beast into a faster trot. Von Kerber fired 
at him, and the unhappy tribesman tumbled from his 
perch like a dummy figure. Snatching at the camel’s 
head-rope, the Austrian lifted, almost threw Mrs. 
Haxton up to the saddle. Owing to its height from 
the ground, it was impossible to place her there securely, 
but she helped him bravely, scrambled somehow to the 
awkward seat, and stooped to drag him up behind. 
She had succeeded, by main force. The excited beast 
was plunging forward again to get away from the 
affrighting turmoil close to its heels, when a heavy 
thud shook the huge frame, the camel fell to its knees, 
lurched over on its side, and threw both riders heavily. 

Von Kerber alone rose. He was dazed for an instant, 
but he seemed to have a dim consciousness of the 
quarter from which mortal peril threatened, for he 
turned and faced Alfieri, who had reined in the Somali 
pony he rode and was taking deliberate aim at his 
enemy. The Italian carried a repeating rifle. It was 
he who had brought down the camel with a well-judged 
334 


The Finding of the Treasure 

shot through the lungs, and, with the same venomous 
accuracy, he now sent a bullet through von Kerber s 
breast. The stricken man dropped on all fours, and 
glared up at his murderer. Then, nerving himself for 
a supreme effort of hate, he raised his own revolver 
and fired three times at Alfieri. Twice he missed, 
owing to the restiveness of the horse, but the third 
shot hit the Italian in the center of the fore- 
head. 

When Royson found them, they were lying within a 
few feet of each other. Alfieri was dead. His pale 
student’s features, softened by the great change, wore 
a queer look of surprise. Von Kerber was alive, but 
dying. He had fallen on his face, and Dick lifted 
him gently, resting the drooping head against his 
knee. 

“ Are you badly wounded ? ” he asked, knowing well 
by the ashen pallor beneath the bronze of the desert 
that the man’s stormy life was fast ebbing to its close. 
A dreadful froth bubbled from von Kerber’s lips, and 
the words came brokenly: 

“ That Italian beast — I hit him, yes ? ” 

“I suppose so. I could not see what happened. 
But he is dead. Pay no heed to him. Tell me what 
is best to be done for you.” 

“Dead! Achy lieher Gotti That is good. ... I — 
I am finished — I know. . . . Go to Mrs. Haxton. 
Tell her . . . the treasure . . . Fenshawe will be 
generous. . . .” 

And that was all. He did not die instantly, but 
335 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


consciousness failed, and the soul soon fluttered out of 
the limp body with a sigh. 

Dick laid the inanimate form on the desert. He 
went to look for Mrs. Haxton. She was stretched, 
apparently lifeless, beneath the camel’s shoulder. 
Royson seized the huge beast by the neck and flung 
it aside bodily. So far as he could judge, she was 
uninjured, though he feared the camel might have 
broken one of her limbs or fractured a rib, because his 
first thought was that the animal had fallen on top 
of her. But his anxiety was soon dispelled when he 
forced some of the contents of his water-bottle between 
her set teeth. She sobbed twice, and her bosom rose 
and fell spasmodically. Then, with a sudden return 
to the full use of her senses which was almost uncanny, 
she wrested herself free from his arms and shrank 
away, quivering, while her eyes gazed at him with 
awful questioning. As she looked she seemed to un- 
derstand that this man who had held her so tenderly 
was not the man whom she feared to see. The reaction 
was too great. Dick watched the glance of recognition 
fading away into insensibility. With a little gasp, she 
fainted again, but he knew, this time, that her collapse 
was the natural sequel to the ordeal she had gone 
through. He roughly bundled a camel cloth into a 
pillow, laid her head on it, and gave the attention that 
was necessary to events elsewhere. 

He had appreciated the fatal error of the friendly 
Arabs in deserting their stronghold. Though he and 
his companions pressed on at a dangerous speed, they 
336 


The Finding of the Treasure 

could do nothing to stop the panic. Some of the 
runaways almost charged into them, and seriously 
interfered with their view of the advancing Haden- 
dowas. That was only for a moment, but seconds are 
precious when men are shooting at point-blank range, 
and Royson was lashing an Arab out of his path at 
the instant Alfieri fired the first shot at the double- 
laden camel. The Hadendowas scattered and fled 
when they caught a glimpse of the white faces. But 
they did not get away unscathed. Slipping out of 
their saddles, four of the Aphrodite^s crew opened fire, 
and brought five of the robber tribesmen headlong to 
earth, while the sixth saved his skin by falling with his 
wounded camel and skulking unnoticed to the hills 
along the water-course. As for the remainder, the 
flanking parties bolted before Abdur Kad’r or Abdullah 
could get within striking distance, and from that hour 
no sensible Hadendowa came near the Well of Moses 
for many a month. 

In fact, Royson found that his own men were already 
standing quietly in a group, waiting for orders, and the 
two detachments of caravan Arabs were coming in 
from the wings in accordance with his preconcerted 
plan. Some of the bolting escort were returning. 
They looked shamefaced when they passed von Kerber 
lying dead on the. ground. One of them, a Hadji, who 
wore the green turban and black cloak of a pilgrim to 
Mecca, began to murmur an explanation to Royson, 
but the giant Effendi gave him such a glance of scorn 
and anger that the man made off, lest the evil from 
337 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


which he had fled might yet befall him. In the imme- 
diate foreground were several prostrate forms, mostly 
Arabs injured in the fight for the camels, and so gravely 
wounded that they could not move. A struggling camel 
or two, screaming and kicking in agony, seemed to be 
strangely out of place in the peaceful hush which 
instantly enfolded the desert. The shouting and mus- 
ketry that made pandemonium there a few minutes 
earlier had vanished. The tops of the more distant 
mountains were glowing in purple and gold, and the 
blue of the sky was deepening. In that brief hour 
before the utter darkness that follows sunset the desert 
has a rare beauty. It has lights and shades denied to 
softer landscapes. Titania’s bower can show no more 
brilliant color effects. It is then a fit background for 
romance and mystery, but it breathes no hint of war 
or death, and such things wear a sacrilegious aspect 
when brought forcibly into those fairy-like surround- 
ings. 

Royson, though he had watched the transformation 
of rock and arid earth many a time with kindling eyes, 
gave small heed to the dream-face of nature as he 
scanned the splendid prospect for sign of further 
attack by the Hadendowas. He found none, but he 
happened to note the furtive manner of some among 
the Arab escort who were hastening toward the small 
hollow enclosed by the Seven Hills. 

Then he remembered why this solitary place had 
become a Golgotha. The hapless von Kerber was 
disinterring the treasure when the Hadendowa assault 
338 


The Finding of the Treasure 

began. In all likelihood, had the free-booters ridden 
boldly up in the first instance, the fight would have 
ended in less minutes than it had occupied hours. 
And these other ghouls, before they were driven off 
by a hail of lead, had learnt what store of wealth was 
buried there beneath the sand. 

“ Chaytor,” said Royson, addressing one of the crew 
who had acted as quartermaster on board the yacht, 
“take three men and mount guard over any trench or 
other excavation you may find in the valley between 
those mounds. Let no Arab even approach the place. 
Use force if necessary, but try and avoid any shooting. 
I shall join you there before sunset.” 

“Ay, ay, sir,” said Chaytor. He named three men, 
and the four hurried to their post. Bidding the other 
two sailors help him, Royson turned to carry out a 
disagreeable task. Von Kerber, Alfieri, and the rest 
must be buried while there was yet light. He meant 
to make a rough inventory of documents and letters 
found in the pockets of the Europeans. The Arabs 
would scoop shallow graves where the sand was deepest, 
and pile heavy stones over the bodies to protect them 
from jackals. Such was the simple ceremony of the 
desert. And it demanded haste. 

But a distressing sight awaited him. Mrs. Haxton 
was kneeling by von Kerber’s side, and weeping in a 
heart-broken way. He went to her, and said, almost 
in a whisper: 

“You can do no good by remaining here. Won’t 
you go to the tent that is fixed in the oasis, and wait 
339 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


there until I join you? I shall not be long. You 
understand — it is for the best.” 

She raised her streaming eyes, and he had never 
before seen such a grief-stricken face. 

“Mr. Royson,” she murmured dully, “let me pray 
yet a little while.” 

“Indeed I am sorry for you,” he said. “Yet I 
must urge you to go. We have not a moment to 
lose.” 

“ To lose ? What else can happen ? ” 

“The night is coming. We cannot leave the bodies 
here. It would be too horrible.” 

“Ah,” she sighed, “there is no horror to equal mine. 
I have the blood of three men on my soul.” 

She suffered him to lead her away. He tried to 
console her by throwing all the responsibility on to the 
Italian. But he felt that this palsied woman scarce 
listened to his words. He was almost glad to leave 
her alone with her mournful thoughts. In active work 
he could find distraction from the sad influences of this 
fatal treasure-hunt. There were still many things he 
did not comprehend, but he resolutely dismissed all 
self-communing. Perhaps, when the first paroxysm of 
woe had exhausted itself, Mrs. Haxton might explain; 
meanwhile, he must endeavor to hide the chief features 
of the tragedy ere Irene arrived. 

When he moved Alfieri’s body in order to examine 
his clothing, he saw that the man’s coat was torn at 
the breast, the cloth having caught a jagged rock as 
its wearer fell from the saddle. Through this rent a 
340 


The Finding of the Treasure 

pocketbook and some papers had slipped out. They 
were resting on a little sand drift at the base of the 
rock that had caused the damage. The pocketbook 
was open. Some of the sand had entered its com- 
partments. And, in one of them, were the papyrus 
leaves found in the tomb of Demetriades, the Greek, 
whose mortal eyes were the last that had gazed on the 
treasure of Sheba! In truth, here was one of the 
world’s dramas, with its scenes divided by two thousand 
years, yet the parched desert was content to wait there 
placidly, in sure and certain knowledge that the curtain 
would rise again on that grim play, whether the years 
were few or many between the acts. How little changed 
was the stage. But what of the actors.^ Did the 
modem troupe differ so greatly from the two-thousand- 
year-old cast — the merchant in ivory and skins who 
quitted his quiet business at Alexandria to seek adven- 
ture and gold, the Romans who went to kill and plunder 
an inoffensive people, the Nubians who waylaid them, 
and left their bones to bleach? Assuredly, looking at 
the dozen or more dead bodies stretched in a row at 
his feet, Royson deemed mankind as unchangeable as 
the desert. 

******** 

At two o’clock, when the stars and a new moon were 
dimly lighting the circle of hills, an Arab vedette re- 
ported the approach of a large kafila from the west. 
Soon the jingle of accouterments and the cries of 
camels who scented the oasis heralded the arrival of 
the main body. When Dick lifted a weary Irene from 
341 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


the saddle he made no pretense of shyness, but kissed 
her quite heartily. 

Yet Dick’s tidings caused grave faces in the small 
circle round the camp-fire. Mr. Fenshawe, as respon- 
sible leader of the expedition, felt the weight of this 
added burthen of death. There was no gainsaying 
the fact that he had been dragged into an unlawful 
enterprise. He was in Italian territory against the will 
of the authorities. Though he and those under his 
control were guiltless of actual wrong-doing, it was 
exceedingly unfortunate that Alfieri had not lived to 
make a deposition. The treasure-seekers must now 
depend on the testimony of the wounded Hadendowas, 
four of whom had surrendered voluntarily, for the one 
great principle which the East has learnt from the 
West is that Europeans usually show humanity to a 
disabled foe. Abdullah, too, assured the millionaire 
that the Italian officer who accompanied Alfieri from 
Massowah warned the latter against any act of violence, 
and would have restrained him from undertaking an 
apparently useless search if the instructions received 
from Rome had not directed that “every assistance 
was to be given to Signor Giuseppe Alfieri.” 

There could be no manner of doubt that the Italian 
had begun an unprovoked attack on the smaller kafila. 
His only messengers were bullets, and the orders he 
issued to the Hadendowas were definite. The whole 
party was to be exterminated, with the exception of 
Mrs. Haxton, who was to be taken alive if possible. 
Again, there was direct evidence of his duplicity with 
342 


The Finding of the Treasure 

regard to the meeting arranged for that morning. 
Fenshawe’s friendly letter was found among his papers, 
so he had hurried from his camp on the Suleiman's 
Well route with the deliberate intention of wiping out 
of existence the man who was his sworn enemy. Still, 
the affair wore an ugly look, and tired though he was, 
Fenshawe had no thought of rest until the contradictory 
elements of a most perplexing business were sifted. 

He was seated near the fire with Royson and Stump. 
Irene had gone to Mrs. Haxton the instant she heard 
Dick's tragic story. 

“Has Mrs. Haxton thrown any light on events?" 
Fenshawe asked. “ You say she was completely broken 
down. Did you gather from her words that von 
Kerber brought her here knowing that this oasis was 
the place described by the Greek ? " 

“She did not even mention the treasure. Perhaps 
I could have induced her to speak, but — " 

“You forbore. I am glad of it. Has any of the 
loot been discovered ? " 

“It was dark when I visited the trench von Kerber 
was cutting. Alfieri sent a volley at him, and stopped 
the work before much was done, but the Arabs tell me 
that some leather wallets are visible. The men who 
were here this morning know that the contents are 
valuable, so I have stationed an armed guard there." 

“ I wish I could destroy every vestige of the wretched 
stuff. There is a curse on it." 

Fenshawe 's tone revealed how deeply he was moved. 

“Where is Abdullah?" he cried suddenly, *-If he 
343 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


will tell us the truth, we may reach firm ground in the 
midst of all this morass of lies and treachery. Send for 
him. He is an Arab, and, if he thinks his interests are 
bound up with ours, he will speak.” 

Abdullah, surveying the conclave from afar, had 
arrived at an opinion that justified this estimate. 
His first words shed light on a dark place in the records 
of the two men who were lying side by side in the 
safe keeping of the desert. His command of French 
rendered conversation easy, except to Stump, and he 
was quite explicit. 

“ Madam is beautiful, is it not ? ” he said, indicating 
Mrs. Haxton’s tent by a graceful gesture “Seven 
years ago, she was the most beautiful woman in Egypt. 
Her husband should not have brought her here. By 
Mahomet, Egypt is no place for the good-looking wife 
of a poor man. That is the cause of all the trouble, 
messieurs. Elegant birds require gilded cages, and 
Monsieur Haxton had not money enough. I met them 
first in Massowah, where she lived in the hotel, while 
her husband went up and down the Red Sea in a ship. 
Alfieri was there, and he also was poor, but he ruined 
himself in trying to win her away from Monsieur 
Haxton. He failed, and, like many another man, that 
only made him worse. When Monsieur Haxton was 
sent to Assouan by a new company, Alfieri went there, 
too. It was at that time I found the papers which 
tell about the treasure — ” 

“How do you know they tell about the treasure?” 
broke in Fenshawe. 


344 


The Finding of the Treasure 

“ Because I stole them from Monsieur Haxton,” was 
the cool reply. “ I had sold them to Monsieur Alfieri, 
and he gave them to Madame’s husband. Monsieur 
le Baron was his doctor, and a friend, but, when he 
found out how valuable those papers were, he hired 
me to secure them from Monsieur Haxton’s bureau 
while he slept. Unfortunately, there was an accident. 
Monsieur Haxton was in a fever, and the doctor gave 
him a sleeping draft. Monsieur Haxton took too 
much, and he never woke again.” 

Fenshawe’s face grew dark with anger. 

“You scoundrel!” he cried. “Between you, you 
poisoned the man. I recollect the incident now. I 
saw it in the papers at the time.” 

“You are wrong. Monsieur,” said Abdullah calmly. 
“There was an inquiry, and it was proved that the 
draft was only a strong one — quite harmless if the 
doctor’s written orders were obeyed. True, done but 
I and the Baron knew why the Englishman should 
sleep so soundly that night, but it was not meant to 
kill him. Monsieur Alfieri charged the doctor with 
having committed a crime, so Monsieur Haxton’s 
friends had the affair fully examined into. It was 
really an accident. Monsieur le Baron was exceedingly 
grieved.” 

“But he kept the papers?” was Fenshawe’s grim 
comment. 

“ By the Kaaba, and why not ? Here was Monsieur 
Alfieri trying to hang him, and all because Madame 
would not have anything to do with him. You see, 
345 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 

there was every reason why the Hakim Effendi should 
get the papers. Monsieur Haxton was fool enough to 
tell Alfieri something about them.” 

“ Probably Monsieur Haxton meant to play the part 
of an honest man.” 

“It may be. Who knows Yet it is certain that 
Alfieri would never have shared the treasure with 
Monsieur Haxton if he had known what the writing 
was about. On the other hand, Monsieur le Baron 
told Madame everything, and he promised me a good 
share for helping him. When he went to England he 
left me to watch Alfieri. They were always enemies, 
those two.” 

Dick remembered the letter in Arabic he had seen 
von Kerber reading on the night they met in the Aus- 
trian’s house. And he recalled, too, with a shiver, 
Mrs. Haxton’s agonized words when he tried to lead 
her away from the dead man who had dared so much 
for her sake. She had “ the blood of three men on her 
soul,” she said. One of those men was her husband. 
In that dark hour what terrible shadows had trooped 
from the tomb to torture her! He said nothing to his 
companions. She knew. He only guessed, and he 
left it at that. 

******** 

Next day many hands completed the task von Kerber 
had begun. But Fenshawe had made up his mind on 
a course of action, and he adhered to it rigidly. The 
list given by Demetriades was almost correct. One 
hundred and seventy wallets were brought to light, 
346 


The Finding of the Treasure 

just two less than the number stated by the Greek. 
They were left unopened. Exactly as they were taken 
from the sand so were they sealed and set aside until 
transportation details were arranged. Mr. Fenshawe 
pointed out to the men from the Aphrodite how impor- 
tant it was that the treasure should be made over to 
the Italian Government intact. By that means alone 
could their story be justified, and he guaranteed that 
no one should suffer financial loss by reason of his 
decision. 

Mrs. Haxton was too ill to be either questioned or 
consulted. She was carried to the sea almost at death’s 
door, and her ultimate recovery was doubtful even a 
fortnight later, when the Aphrodite brought them all 
to Aden. And it may be said here that the monetary 
value of the treasure was not great — its utmost figure 
being placed at £50,000. The two missing wallets 
were those containing the gems. Probably that was 
another story which the desert has in safe keeping. 
The Italian Foreign Office behaved generously to the 
disappointed archeologist. He was acquitted from 
any blame in regard to the affray at the Well of Moses, 
and he was asked to select for his own collection twelve 
of the ancient Persian and Indian gold vases which 
formed the chief prizes of the hoard. 

But that was long afterward, when Sir Richard and 
Lady Royson were on their honeymoon trip to Japan, 
when Captain and Mrs. Stump, attended by the faithful 
Tagg, had enjoyed the “ time of their lives ” at Orme 
Castle, and when Mrs. Haxton, elegant as ever, but 
347 


The Wheel o’ Fortune 


very quiet and reserved in manner, was living in a tiny 
villa at Bath, where Mr. Fenshawe’s munificence had 
established her for the remainder of her days. She 
said, and there was no reason to disbelieve her, that 
von Kerber had no knowledge of the identity of the 
oasis at the Well of Moses. He went that way to the 
sea by sheer accident and became half crazy with 
excitement at the sight of the Seven Hills. It was his 
fixed intention, she declared, to send word to Fenshawe 
as soon as he had ascertained, beyond range of doubt, 
that the Sheban loot was really buried there. 

Dick and his wife passed a fortnight at Cairo on 
their voyage home. They chanced to admire some old 
praying carpets in a shop in the bazaar, and asked the 
price. They offered half the sum named, and the 
attendant, a slim youth, said he would consult his 
father. 

A tall, stoutly-built Arab came from a dark inner 
apartment. His regular, somewhat grave, features at 
once expanded into a delighted smile. 

“ By the Prophet ! ” he exclaimed in excellent French, 
“ I am overjoyed at seeing you. Monsieur et Madame. 
You will drink coffee with me, is it not? And, as for 
the rugs, take them. They are yours. I set up a shop 
with the money Monsieur Fenshawe gave me, and I 
am prosperous. Que diahlel That was a lucky jour- 
ney for me when we all went south together. I have 
left the desert now. Behold! I am a good citizen, 
and pay taxes.” 

Irene laughed. She had never pictured Abdullah 
348 


The Finding of the Treasure 

the Spear-thrower as a shop-keeper, and waxing fat 
withal. 

“You, at any rate, found treasure at the Well of 
Moses,” she cried. 

Abdullah glanced at her happy, smiling face. He 
turned to Royson, and bowed, with something of his 
former grace. 

“Let me congratulate you. Monsieur, on your far 
greater fortune,” he said. 

THE END 


349 


'i 

■'I 

■i 

1 

“I 

s. 

, I 

i' 





:1 

I 




% ft 







■\:>* >-''i> ti: -V'" 


■ l'H'V } '.'J i>Ti 






1 •* '* 




* f 

^ . ,u 

if ■■' *>i 




S '..' 

-'>. ••• . 1 '.'k ' .0 ,'. M, , , , , A 




Ct-'iH’''' 



.f .•' «» 




I i 

• ' iV ’'*•' '* ''i' 


'■• '■' 


k . I 


. ■; .V ■v.i . 

t ‘ ' 

‘I' ’ 



" ' I 


( f • 


It: 




' » 


i - .■ ,T .. 

v..('. ;■> • 


•n. 


'“^ 0 , 


!n ' «i - • w' 




.* ' 


■*■ •■.'■•-. /. j , 




>1 • . 


", • '^Vr; 







I 


•y-’y ■ . •. 



, * v'l 

•i , ■ 1 , .' ? ,MA . '' I -y' 

L*' '* ,< ^ ' '"i 



l> f 

■at'A 


[| tj : Vy’* 

yr ; ?,V>.^> 


.» k 


i ■ *,' 


'J,i^ '* 



/wH” 


» ' •■I.' ■,»;■ 

• •' l.l 


'A'AfiV '*>■ T1 

Li", .:v'. i 


i ' . ' I 


'. .A;,''. I', .'■ X,', 


'« I 




' >1'. 


kM,. V. 


iL . m/. ' • > -4 


, • •» : k l.'‘v. .*)-,• k 

' -'W 

, ijflvlt. 














